


Let's Fall in Love For the Night (One Shot Pairings)

by Youngblood615



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Chapter 402 Spoilers, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Haikyuu Week, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Literal Sleeping Together, Lots and Lots of Pairings, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Oikawa is literally my husband but I made him gay anyways, One Shot, Teasing, Timeskip Haikyuu!!, extreme fluff, you dont understand literally everyone is gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:53:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25519825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youngblood615/pseuds/Youngblood615
Summary: Hello! Welcome to my "Haikyuu!! Sleepy Pairings" Series of One Shots!title based on the wonderful song, "Let's Fall in Love For the Night" by FINNEASThe scenario:The pair is getting ready to settle in for the evening when one of them says they are too tired to walk to bed.Lots of fluff with a bit of fun and implied fun ;)*TIMESKIP setting, beware of spoilers*Pairings:DaiSuga (Chapter 1)KuroKen (Chapter 2)IwaOi (Chapter 3)Tsukkiyama (Chapter 4)UshiTen (Chapter 5)Bokuaka (Chapter 6)KageHina (Chapter 7)SemiShira (Chapter 8)Three-part story: SakuAtsa (Chapter 9), AranKita (Chapter 10 - coming soon), and OsaSuna (Chapter 11 - coming soon)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kita Shinsuke/Ojiro Aran, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 38
Kudos: 702





	1. Daichi & Sugawara

**Author's Note:**

> holllaaa niñññoosss
> 
> First up is DaiSuga! Love these two so much.
> 
> hope you enjoy my attempt at fluff!

Daichi sat with his feet up on the recliner, attempting to go through all of the paperwork for the new recruits. He crinkled his forehead as he found one written in incredibly sloppy handwriting and let out a sigh.

“Daichi, what’s wrong?” Sugawara asked as he looked up from his computer, which sat on his lap amid the massive amount of paper scattered around the silver-haired man and the couch.

“These new recruits for the police station… some of them have worse handwriting than Tanaka,” Daichi sighed again.

“Oh boy, that’s really saying something,” Suga let out a chuckle and a wide smile, making all of Daichi’s annoyance simmer away. There was just something about Suga’s smile that made Daichi completely forget that the outside world existed.

“What are you working on?” Daichi asked, setting the stack of papers he was holding on the coffee table, done for the night. He couldn’t handle reading any more applications that reminded him of his former Karasuno havoc-wreakers. He leaned his head onto his palms as he lovingly watched Suga close his laptop and rest the back of his head on the armrest of the couch.

“A lesson plan for next week. You’d think elementary school children wouldn’t need much instruction beyond playing and learning the alphabet,” Suga complained, closing his eyes and stretching his legs out on the length of the couch.

“I don’t want to even think about stuff like that. You were always a much better team parent than me,” Daichi laughed as he remembered the times when Suga would be able to comfort the team much better than he ever could. He took on the stern dad role, as he was better at lecturing.

“That’s because you would just yell at Noya and Tanaka for yelling! Not very effective there, sweetie,” Suga smirked, knowing Daichi would try and defend himself from being called ineffective.

“Hey! That’s not fair! Those knuckleheads wouldn’t know peace unless Kiyoko spelled it out for them,” Daichi countered, “thank God Tanaka eventually managed to talk to her about something other than how pretty she was.”

“I have to give him credit for that one. We should get together with them soon,” Suga replied.

“You’re right. It’s been too long,” Daichi said as he stood up out of his chair. He stretched out his arms above his head and his white t-shirt came up, revealing the tanned skin of his abdomen. Even while sleepy, Suga couldn’t help but marvel at how defined Daichi’s abs were, even if they were long past their days of workouts in the Karsuno gym. His V-line was still deeply creased and perfectly sculpted. Smirking, Suga thought about how he knew all too well what the end of Daichi’s v-line led to, and how it’d been a while since he’d seen it.

Daichi, too oblivious for his own good, did not notice the former vice captain ogling him and simply asked, “do you want some tea? I’m about to go into the kitchen.”

“I’d love some, I’m honestly exhausted,” Suga sighed as he rubbed the middle of his forehead.

As he walked by, Daichi bent down and kissed Suga’s head, earning him a groan as Daichi didn’t let the action progress further.

“You better be coming back here quickly,” Suga warned. Daichi chuckled from the kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove. On a policeman’s and schoolteacher’s salary, they couldn’t afford the most luxurious place, but it was enough. As long as he got to wake up every morning next to the love of his life, he didn’t care.

As he stood in the kitchen, watching the city lights out of his window, Daichi could hear Sugawara starting to type again on his laptop. He would never tell him, but Daichi adored that Suga was so dedicated to his students, treating them like his own children. It was too early for the two of them to even think about having children, but he knew that Suga would have as many as Daichi was comfortable with having. They were both easy like that, rarely getting into fights, except for when Daichi didn’t give Suga enough attention.

The kettle started to steam, so Daichi poured the hot water into a mug that had a pattern of orange volleyballs on it and put the teabag inside. Carrying it slowly back out into the living room, he called out to his partner, “I thought you were done working for the night?”

“I got an idea and had to write it down before I forgot,” Suga answered, “oh, thanks for the tea.” He gave Daichi a quick peck on the cheek, making the dark-haired man blush. No matter how many times Suga did that, Daichi still couldn’t get over how cute he was.

“So, are you going to tell me about this brilliant new idea?” Daichi pried, picking up Suga’s feet and placing them in his lap as he sat down on the couch, “Jesus, your feet are freezing.”

“Hey! I’m wearing socks,” Suga protested, wiggling his feet on Daichi’s lap.

“Clearly that’s not enough.”

“Maybe you’re just too warm.”

“You don’t seem to complain when I keep you warm at night,” Daichi let out a laugh.

“You’re my personal space heater, I’m not getting rid of you that easily,” Suga countered, winking, “anyways, my lesson plan has to focus on sharing and compromise. Teaching the children to accept others’ opinions and ideas.”

“Where was this lesson plan when Hinata was insulted daily by Tsukishima?” Daichi asked with a sigh.

“No one could be saved from Tsukishima unless it was because of Yamaguchi, and you know it.”

“Of course,” Daichi smiled as he started to mindlessly trace his thumb on the top of Suga’s foot. He moved his touch to his partner’s ankle, causing Suga to squirm and giggle.

“Oh, I forgot we were ticklish here,” Daichi grinned, beginning to attack.

“No, please, not the laptop!” Suga screeched, but Daichi was already there to gently put the laptop on the table and get back to tickling him. Suga admired Daichi’s quick reflexes but expected nothing less from one of their former team’s best receivers.

He tried as best as he could to avoid Daichi’s jabs at his sides, but it was no use. Suga was left squirming and twitching, both of them laughing hysterically. After both of them ran out of breath, they sat down next to each other on the couch, restless.

“Hey, Daichi? I think I’m too tired to walk to bed,” Suga whined. He knew all too well that Daichi would do anything for him, and tonight was a time where he planned to use that to his advantage.

“Oh, really?” Daichi looked over at his partner skeptically, “too tired, you say?”

Suga gazed into Daichi’s brown eyes and smiled as widely as possible, “yep!”

“Well. There’s only one way to fix this,” Daichi exclaimed as he stood up and at once, grabbed Suga around the waist and hoisted him up over his shoulder. With all of the police training, Daichi was as strong as ever and Suga only laughed as his arms swung over Daichi’s back. The two of them started walking out of the living room when Suga shouted, “oh no! What about my tea!”

“Too late, we’ll get it when I’m done with you,” Daichi teased before lightly smacking the back of Suga’s thigh.

“I’m being held hostage!” the setter cried sarcastically, smiling wide as he started to get butterflies in his stomach from the prospect of Daichi’s plans.

In the bedroom, Daichi gently tossed Suga on his back onto the bed. Taking off his shirt, he asked, “now, what was this about being too tired for anything?”

“All better,” Suga’s eyes glistened as Daichi hovered over him and began to kiss him. Suga tasted lemony from the tea, and Daichi licked his lips in satisfaction.

“Do I taste good?” Sugawara smiled smugly. 

“You already know the answer to that,” Daichi whispered in between kisses down Suga’s neck and collarbones, his cheeks reddening.

Breathless from his work, Daichi sat up on the edge of the bed. Suga took this opportunity to push himself up and climb on top of his partner. He wrapped his legs around Daichi and passionately pulled him in for more kisses, running his hands through Daichi’s spiky, dark hair. Being forever the tease, Suga suddenly pulled away. He happily untangled himself from Daichi and started to walk out of the bedroom, adjusting his shorts.

Daichi’s eyes shot open, interrupted from his pleasure, and called after him, “where are you going?”

Getting no answer for several moments, he started to worry he did something to upset Suga.

“Koshi?” Daichi called again, using the name exclusively for the times that he needed to tread lightly.

He heard the padding of feet and Suga reappeared a minute later, grinning, with the volleyball cup in hand, “I wanted my tea!”

Daichi burst out laughing and shook his head, “only you…”

Suga planted a kiss on Daichi’s forehead before walking to the nightstand to set down his cup. Pulling up the covers from their neatly tucked-in position, Suga climbed into bed. Daichi crawled in after him and wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pulling him into his bare chest. On days when Daichi needed to be comforted, Suga didn’t mind being the big spoon. However, it was much securer to fall asleep with his partner’s strong arms wrapped around him.

“Ahhh, cozy,” Suga cooed, writhing around, pushing himself further into Daichi until he felt something hard push against his back.

“I’m excited to be with you, too,” Suga commented slyly.

“Oh, shut up,” Daichi muttered into Suga, playfully biting his neck.

“I love you, Daichi,” Suga whispered.

“I love you too, more than you know.”

The pair then drifted to sleep with thoughts of only each other.


	2. Kuroo & Kenma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: KuroKen!
> 
> Fun fact their height difference is eight inches.
> 
> *beware of timeskip spoilers!*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nekoma said I respect the broke community, but it ain't me.  
> and I am HERE for it.

Coming home late again, Kuroo opened the door of the house to find the front hallway lights off. His spiked, black hair messed up by the windy walk from the train station, he thoughtlessly took off his shoes and hung his coat in the closet. He carried his briefcase into the kitchen where all the lights were off except for two, small hanging lamps above the counter island. He set the briefcase on the counter, turned on another light, and looked around. A single empty plate and utensils sat in the sink, and a pan of what looked like fish and noodles sat on the stove. Kuroo’s face softened as he lifted the lid and the familiar scent of mackerel filled his nose, making him let out a sigh of hunger.

“Kenma?” he called softly towards the living room in case his partner was asleep.

“…Kuroo?” a voice answered from beyond the couch.

His face breaking out into a smile, Kuroo walked over to the living room where he found Kenma sitting on the floor, their bed’s comforter wrapped around him like a cocoon, with only his face sticking out from under the makeshift hood. Kenma’s eyes had a glare on them from the reflection of the TV as he played a game that Kuroo didn’t quite understand the objective of.

Kuroo stood next to him, loosening his bright red tie as he spoke, “how’s my favorite Kodzuken?” watching as the avatar on the screen continued passing through the level.

“Fine,” Kenma replied over the clicking of his controller, eyes not leaving the screen.

“What have you been doing all day?” Kuroo asked as he tried to keep the conversation going.

“Gaming. Streaming. The like…”

Even with his several jobs, none of them really required Kenma to leave the house, something that Kuroo was sometimes jealous of. Kenma could make video conference calls all day long in his sweatshirt and shorts, while Kuroo had to dress up in suits for work. He didn’t necessarily mind, it made him feel more professional, and Kenma even sometimes complimented him on how put together he looked. But still, staying late at the office a lot made Kuroo feel like he was abandoning Kenma.

“Thank you for cooking dinner,” Kuroo said as he walked back to the kitchen to get a plate.

“I got hungry…” Kenma mumbled.

“Well, I’m glad you ate. I’m sorry I came home late again today. There was just so much work, and I might have to type something up before I’m done for the night,” Kuroo groaned as he sat down at the dining table, taking out his laptop and some papers from his briefcase.

“It’s fine…”, Kenma mumbled again.

“Hey! Did you have any vegetables with this?”

Kuroo received only silence in response.

“Kenma! You gotta eat your vegetables!”

Kuroo quickly finished up his food and started to type away on a document for the association. He only got halfway done before he started to yawn uncontrollably. Shutting his eyes tightly, he tried to force away the tiredness and the burning sensation in his eyes.

Hearing a muttered curse and a long sigh, Kuroo looked up and saw that Kenma must have failed the level. In a silent fit of fury, Kenma tossed the controller on the floor and quietly got up and shut off the TV. Like a veil trailing behind him, the comforter swished on the floor as Kenma walked towards Kuroo and took a seat on the next chair over.

“What are you doing?” Kenma asked him quietly.

“It’s a proposal for the advertising budget for the next national competition,” Kuroo explained, “the more promotion in different areas we can find, the bigger the ticket sales.”

Kenma’s cat-like eyes looked at Kuroo with more interest now, “are Shouyou and Bokuto a part of this?”

Kuroo’s face grew into a half-smile, pleased that Kenma wanted to talk to him about his work. He knew it also mostly because of Hinata, but it was still something. Sometimes Kuroo worried that Kenma could get too isolated, but Hinata and Bokuto were some of their best friends and he was glad Kenma still wanted to keep in touch.

“Yeah. Actually, I’ve met with them a couple times to discuss potential photographs of them being used for publicity.”

“I miss Shouyou,” Kenma admitted. While Kenma really liked to be alone and in his own space, he sometimes missed how hyper and excited Hinata was about everything. It made Kenma want to level up. With Bokuto always came Akaashi, whom Kenma got along with well.

“Me too. I’ll talk to them, see when they’re in town next,” Kuroo promised.

The two sat in silence for a moment, reminiscing about their days of high school volleyball, surrounded by friends and enemies alike, worried only about getting the next point in the set and not things like rent payments.

“Hey,” Kuroo finally spoke up, “you wanna put one of those frozen apple pies in the oven?”

Kuroo’s heart fluttered as Kenma smiled and nodded happily, “thanks, Kuroo.”

“Come on, you can help me find the pan,” Kuroo nudged his head towards the kitchen.

Kenma shed the comforter off of himself and left it on the dining table chair as the pair set off to defrost the pie. Reading the instructions off the box three times to make sure the oven didn’t set on fire, Kuroo pushed the pie tin in and Kenma set a timer on his phone.

Watching Kenma pour himself a glass of water, Kuroo leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms, deep in thought about the proposal. To Kuroo’s surprise, after Kenma finished his drink, he walked over to him, moving Kuroo’s arms so that Kenma could lean against his chest. Kuroo adjusted his body so that he wrapped his arms around Kenma, encompassing him in an over-the-back hug while the kitchen filled with the aroma of cinnamon and apples.

“I missed you,” Kenma murmured.

“I missed you, too, Kenma,” Kuroo whispered, giving the much shorter man a kiss on the top of his head, causing Kenma to shiver. One day Kuroo would convince him to fix his hair color, but he didn’t want to start that fight tonight.

The pair stood in silence, embracing, until the oven beeped, and it was time to take out the pie. Both of them half falling asleep in the warmth, Kenma carefully set the tin on the counter while Kuroo grabbed the forks. Forever chaotic and impatient, Kuroo tried to take a bite way too early.

“Hash… ho–, hoo–, hot!”, Kuroo choked out, attempting to cool the piece down in his mouth.

“Burnt my tongue…”, he said, after grabbing a glass of water.

“Idiot…”, Kenma rolled his eyes, jabbing Kuroo in the side.

“Hey!”, Kuroo cried, rubbing the spot, “I got excited.”

Kenma did not reply, as he was too busying cutting himself a slice, setting it on the plate and carrying it back to the dining table. Kuroo grabbed the can of whipped cream from the fridge and sat down beside Kenma, shaking it vigorously.

“That ruins it,” Kenma muttered.

“No, it just enhances the fluffiness,” Kuroo argued over the sound of the aerosol squirting out the cream on his pie.

Mouth full of pie, Kenma replied, “no, it makes the whole plate soupy after it melts, and the crust gets soggy.”

“Does not,” Kuroo contended.

“Does too.”

“Does not.”

“Does too.”

Both their plates were clear in a matter of minutes and both indulged in a second slice of pie. The pair sat at the dining table, incredibly full. Kuroo had to unbutton the top of his pants halfway through the second slice.

“Want to watch TV?” Kenma asked.

“Oh… you know, Kenma, I’m kind of really tired.”

“Okay…” Kenma pouted before standing up and dragging the comforter off of the back of the chair, moving to the living room.

Kuroo frowned, unhappy with himself for upsetting his partner. Gathering himself, he called, “no, Kenma, wait. Let me just go put on some comfier clothes!”

“It’s fine… I’ll watch by myself,” Kenma replied.

“Never. You’ll just watch something of no taste,” Kuroo jogged to their bedroom to grab a pair of shorts, unbuttoning his shirt in the midst of walking. He found one of his old Nekoma practice shirts and threw that on, hoping it would cheer Kenma up.

“I’m back!”, Kuroo came back into the living room to find Kenma on the couch with his legs hugging his chest, scrolling through the TV guide. He threw himself down next to him, spreading out and putting his arm on Kenma’s back.

“What are we watching?”, he asked.

“I haven’t found anything good…”, Kenma admitted.

“We could play something instead?”, Kuroo offered.

“You would lose…”, Kenma sighed.

“Try me!”, Kuroo shouted.

After two rounds of Kuroo losing very badly, he threw the controller on the couch and groaned, rubbing his face with his hands, “I quit, Kenma. You’re too good.”

“No, I’m not. I can’t get past the level I was playing earlier.”

“You’ll get there, it’s just about patience and practice.”

“Okay…”

“I think I’m too tired to walk to bed,” Kuroo said after he yawned for what seemed like the twenty-third time.

Kuroo watched as Kenma got up and turned off the TV.

“Are you just going to leave me here?”, Kuroo worriedly asked.

“No,” Kenma replied simply as he walked back to Kuroo on the couch. He then sat down and put his head on Kuroo’s stomach, curling his feet up on the couch. With a swoosh, Kenma draped the comforter over the both of them. Kuroo chuckled at the gesture as Kenma clapped twice to make the lights shut off, demonstrating just how tech-savvy their house really was.

“This is going to be terrible for my back, you know,” Kuroo moaned.

“You don’t want to move and neither do I,” Kenma countered.

Kuroo let out another sigh of defeat and shifted his weight so that his head could rest on the couch backing.

“Where are you going?”, Kenma whispered sadly, thinking Kuroo was going to get up.

Kuroo wrapped his arm around Kenma and comforted him, “I’m not going anywhere, Kenma. I’m all yours.”

There was no verbal response from the pudding cup-haired man, but Kenma sat up to kiss Kuroo on the cheek. Kuroo then felt the warmth of Kenma’s body scoot further onto his chest.

A wide smile settled upon Kuroo’s face as they fell asleep to the sounds of passing cars and the low hum of the air-conditioner.


	3. Iwaizumi & Oikawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IwaOi is chapter 3!
> 
> This one is a bit longer, because these two are so easy to write about. I love them separately and together :P

As the pilot announced that they would be landing soon, Iwaizumi’s stomach started to churn. It had been several weeks since he had last been with his boyfriend, Oikawa. Of course, Oikawa made his ‘precious Iwa-chan’ facetime him every possible day, but it had still felt like something had gone missing from Iwaizumi’s life. He now looked out the window to see the city of Buenos Aires below and a body of water in the distance. This was Iwaizumi’s first time on such a long plane ride, over a day in flight, and he was exhausted. The only thing he was looking forward to, something he would never tell anyone out loud, was a long hug from his best friend since childhood.

The plane touched down at Ezeiza International Airport in the international terminal at nine pm Argentinian time. Tokyo was an entire twelve hours behind in terms of time zones, but in preparation, Iwaizumi had tried to begin adjusting his sleep schedule before leaving Japan. It hadn’t gone completely to plan, making Iwaizumi thrive on coffee and snapping at his coworkers the last few days.

Clearing customs and then grabbing his luggage, Iwaizumi made his way out to where Oikawa was supposed to be waiting for him. Every sign was in Spanish or English and Iwaizumi, knowing one even less than the other, got a little lost. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of walking, he was able to find arrows leading to the arrival pick-ups.

He continued toward what he assumed was the exit when suddenly someone about his height came flying at him from the side, knocking him off his balance and leaving his suitcase rolling away.  
“IWA-CHAN!”, Oikawa all but screamed, enveloping his former wing spiker into a massive hug. After regaining his balance, Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around Oikawa and smiled widely. He was home.

After what felt like forever and yet only a few seconds, the two parted and stood in the middle of the aisle, grinning at each other, trying to take each other in and make up for the lost time. Oikawa couldn’t help but grab Iwaizumi back into him and kiss him passionately on the lips.

“And that’s only the beginning,” Oikawa smirked with a wink.

Iwaizumi’s cheeks burned as he scolded Oikawa for his very ostentatious display of affection, “sappykawa, get a grip, we’re in the middle of the airport!”

“Ooh, Iwa-chan, that’s a new one! I like it,” Oikawa teased as he took Iwaizumi’s hand and lead him out of the airport. A black sedan was waiting for them in the lot, and the driver grabbed the luggage from Iwaizumi as Oikawa gave instructions to their destination.

“Since when did you learn Spanish?” Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa in disbelief.

“Iwa-chan, I couldn’t be out here playing volleyball and not learn the language of the people,” Oikawa explained, rolling his eyes.

Iwaizumi scoffed but ultimately decided to let Oikawa have his fun. It would be a while before they would see each other again and he wanted to savor it rather than bicker. In the car, Oikawa jabbered away, filling his partner in on his latest outings and how well a new quick attack was coming along with one of his Argentinian teammates. Iwaizumi was almost jealous, but he knew that Oikawa didn’t mean anything by it. With the privacy screen up between them and the driver, Oikawa was almost sitting on top of Iwaizumi, even though there was plenty of room in the car.

Holding his hand and reaching up to stroke his hair, Oikawa murmured, “oh, Iwa-chan, I missed you.”

Iwaizumi’s face began to redden, even though he knew the driver couldn’t see or hear them. He coughed before replying quietly, “I– I missed you, too.”

Oikawa chuckled at Iwaizumi’s clear discomfort and rested his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, “no need to be so stoic, Iwa, I won’t tell Makki or Mattsun how romantic you’re being.”

“I don’t care about them!” Iwaizumi raised his voice, scowling.

“Of course, you don’t,” Oikawa replied with a sweet tone, patting Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

The rest of the car ride was silent, with both men simply enjoying each other’s physical company. As the car slowed to a stop, Oikawa’s face grew into a smile and his overexcited energy seemed to be recharged.

“Iwa-chan, I can’t wait to show you my apartment, it’s so stylish,” Oikawa bragged as they got out of the car to a white and grey, modern-looking building. It was only a couple stories tall, and had balconies overlooking onto the street. While Iwaizumi had no problems with his own apartment in Tokyo, it made him sad that Oikawa had seemingly adjusted so well to life in Argentina. He secretly almost wanted him to hate it and come back to Japan. But Iwaizumi was not a selfish person, so he let Oikawa follow his own path and loved him no matter how far apart they were.

Once the luggage was taken out of the trunk and Oikawa thanked the driver, the two went inside. The apartment was on its own floor, with two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but marvel at the hardwood floors and minimalist furniture style.

In a moment of awe, Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa, this is fantastic.”

Oikawa simply waved him off, replying, “oh, it’s nothing,” but grinning from ear to ear. He was still in the early phases of working on his master plan to recruit Iwaizumi down to Argentina, but it made him overjoyed that his partner liked his living space.

“So, you hungry?” Oikawa asked after Iwaizumi came back from the bedroom, now changed into sweats and an old mint t-shirt that barely fit him anymore. The floppy-haired man couldn’t help but marvel at his partner’s newly defined biceps, courtesy of his new personal trainer regimen.

“Starving. I’m so tired yet so hungry,” Iwaizumi replied as he sat down at one of the counter stools and put his face in his hands.

“Well, you’re lucky that I am turning into the greatest cook ever, and made you your favorite,” Oikawa boasted, setting up two plates of fried tofu over rice.

“How in only a couple weeks have you turned from whiny trash to a fully functional adult?” Iwaizumi questioned. It had come off sarcastic, but he was genuinely surprised.

“Iwa-chan! So mean to me,” Oikawa huffed, dramatically scrunching up his face and plopping onto the stool next to his partner.

“I­– I’m just impressed, that’s all,” Iwaizumi stuttered, the compliment bringing Oikawa back to his cheerfulness immediately.

“Glad I can provide,” Oikawa commented, wanting to add that his cooking could be a common occurrence if Iwaizumi moved in with him, but he refrained.

For the next several minutes, all that could be heard was the scraping of forks against the plates in between gulps of water. Oikawa giggled as Iwaizumi shoveled the last of the meal into his mouth, mumbling, “so good,” incomprehensibly.

As Oikawa put the plates in the dishwasher, Iwaizumi moved to the couch, slouching with his hands on his stomach.

“Never cook like that again, I’m gonna get fat,” he groaned.

Oikawa grabbed the remote for the TV, commenting, “only the best for my Iwa-chan.”

After turning on a documentary about aliens, Oikawa sat down next to Iwaizumi and curled up against him. The wing spiker then moved his arm about the brown-eyed man and pulled him in closer. They chatted quietly about their friends and other happenings, occasionally taking their eyes off of the TV. When the documentary ended, Iwaizumi sat up and turned off the TV.

“So…” he took Oikawa’s hand in his, causing Oikawa to look at him adoringly. Knowing his boyfriend like the back of his palm, Oikawa immediately leapt onto Iwaizumi and pressed his lips against his own. Iwaizumi was ready for it, and wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s back, kissing him harder.

“I–, missed–, you–,” Oikawa managed to get out between pecks, rubbing his hand against Iwaizumi’s spiked hair.

“mmm,” was all Iwaizumi replied as he moved down Oikawa’s neck, ultimately leaving a love bruise on his collarbone. Feeling energized again, Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa and set him on his back on the couch. Kneeling over him, Iwaizumi took off his shirt and threw it on the floor, revealing his perfectly sculpted chest. Even though he had seen it a million times before, the sight still made Oikawa take in a quick breath.

Smirking, Iwaizumi started to undo Oikawa’s pants, eyeing his partner’s growing hardness.

“Oh, Iwa, should we move this into the bedroom?” Oikawa asked seductively, raising his eyebrows.

Iwaizumi stiffened slightly, “uh, no, here is fine,” he said quickly.

“Uh–,” Oikawa started, but was interrupted by Iwaizumi quickly getting off of him and walking over to the window, closing the curtains forcefully.

He muttered dismissively, “it’s a better height on the couch, anyways.”

It had already become past ten, the streetlights being the only thing keeping the street from total darkness. He then walked back to Oikawa and kissed him lightly, resuming his action of removing Oikawa’s slacks. Oikawa eyed him curiously, but ultimately gave in and let his partner pleasure him for the first time in several weeks.

After he was finished, Iwaizumi wiped his lips with his hand and went into the kitchen to grab a drink.

“Do you want water?” he asked.

Oikawa only groaned in response, still lying on the couch, eyes closed in post-coital bliss. Iwaizumi chuckled, satisfied with his work. Sitting back down, he put Oikawa’s head in his lap and began tracing over his partner’s jawline playfully with his fingers.

“Iwa-chan, are you tired?” Oikawa asked, eyes still closed.

“A little, yeah,” Iwaizumi replied.

“Well if you’re not _too_ tired, you’re going to need to carry me to bed. I can’t get up,” Oikawa jokingly requested.

Normally he would have argued and called him Lazykawa, but this time, Iwaizumi wordlessly slid his arms under the setter and swiftly lifted him off of the couch.

“yaayyy,” Oikawa quietly cheered, giving Iwaizumi a kiss on his cheek as they walked into the bedroom. He set the brown-haired man on the bed.

Oikawa let out a small grunt as he felt something hard under his back. His mattress was usually so soft? He reached under his back and felt a solid object. He used one arm to pull from under him and retrieved a black box.

“Iwa-chan, do you know what this is?” he asked as he looked up from the box. He found his partner kneeling on one knee on the ground, face extremely red. Oikawa gasped and tears started to well in his eyes.

“Don’t get all emotional on me!” Iwaizumi shouted, raising his hands in front of him, as if to stabilize Oikawa from a distance.

A hiccup escaped from Oikawa as Iwaizumi continued, still extremely nervous, “we’re quite a long distance apart, and I don’t know for how long, so I figured I would give you something concrete to hold on to.”

“IWA!!!!”, Oikawa leapt off the bed into Iwaizumi and the pair toppled to the ground. The shorter of the two men let out a painful groan as Oikawa kissed him all over his face.

“Is that a yes?” Iwaizumi looked at his partner, concerned.

“YESS!!!!”, Oikawa wiggled his body excitedly, kissing the dark-haired man on the lips this time.

“Open the box, then, you dumb ass,” Iwaizumi sighed and shook his head.

Oikawa ignored the jab and got up to grab the box. Inside was a thick, platinum ring with a black Elysium center and diamonds studded on the sides. He picked it up and on the inside was engraved “01 + 04”, their volleyball numbers from their third year at Aoba Johsai High. 

“Iwa, I–,” Oikawa stuttered as he held it.

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything, only taking the ring from Oikawa’s hands and sliding it on his fingers. Oikawa looked at him through glossy eyes, “it’s perfect.”

Iwaizumi smiled back at him softly, trying his best not to tear up as well. He cleared his throat, “well, uh. I’m glad you like it. How about we get ready for bed?”

Oikawa nodded, stopping Iwaizumi from walking away with a hug, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Iwaizumi said into Oikawa’s shoulder.

As they settled into bed, they were completely entwined. Oikawa’s head was on Iwaizumi’s chest, his leg on Iwaizumi’s hip. Iwaizumi’s hand rubbed Oikawa’s back delicately as they fell asleep.

All of the sudden, Oikawa jolted up, causing his partner’s eyes to blink open.

“What?” Iwaizumi complained, annoyed at him for disturbing the peace.

“I just realized… I would be Iwa-chan too,” Oikawa stated seriously.

With an instantaneous smack on the upside of his head, Iwaizumi growled, “shittykawa, come back and fucking lay on my chest or I’ll kill you.”

Oikawa whimpered at both the pain and at his realization but laid back down.

“We don’t even have to take each other’s names,” Iwaizumi said, shaking his head in disbelief at the audacity of his now fiancée.

“Sorry, Iwa-channn,” Oikawa whined, but a smile crept on Iwaizumi’s face because Oikawa was going to be his, now and forever.

“Go to sleep, we’ll talk about it in the morning,” Iwaizumi caressed Oikawa’s now tender head. Oikawa kissed his chest and the two drifted into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're feeling like even more bittersweet IwaOi, check out my other work "How to Let You Go"!   
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25642855
> 
> That was my original idea for the sleepy pairings, but it got a little too depressing and I had to publish it as it's own work.  
> whoops xx


	4. Tsukishima & Yamaguchi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukkiyama for chapter 4! 
> 
> ft. Tsukishima being extra gentle for his Yamagucci boi

As Yamaguchi looked at the clock in the office, his face grew into a smile.

_It was finally 5 o’clock._

Working for Miyagi Home Electronics meant that his job could be a typical Monday through Friday, 9am to 5pm. He loved working there, tinkering with the technology and being with his co-workers, but being able to spend time on the weekends with his partner, Tsukishima, was the thing he loved the most.

Today was one of the few days that Tsukishima didn’t have anything volleyball related going on in the evening, so Yamaguchi was going to go surprise him at the museum where he worked and take him home. During his lunch break, Yamaguchi had stopped at Tsukishima’s favorite pastry shop to pick up two slices of strawberry shortcake. It now sat in a paper bag on top of his desk, two forks and all. 

He clocked out and said good night to his co-workers, and then headed on the bus. The ride was lonelier without Tsukishima. Yamaguchi, even if he was taller than most people, still felt like someone was going to harm him if he was alone. It had been many years since Tsukishima had stood up for him, but Yamaguchi ever since then had felt that no one could do him any harm with Tsukishima by his side.

After a long ride, he got off of the bus, almost forgetting the shortcake on the seat next to him and walked the block to the museum. Especially at nighttime, it was clear why Tsukishima loved it here so much. The front of the building had many glass windows, reflecting the cityscape back to itself and illuminating it’s exterior. He walked up the steps and waved to the security guard, who knew him by name at this point. Left at the armored statue and straight past the ancient pottery, Yamaguchi entered the back offices. He found his partner, Tsukishima, hunched over his desk, scribbling furiously with several books open around him. Yamaguchi stood in the doorway for a moment, watching adoringly as his boyfriend pushed his glasses up every so often and ran his hands through his already messy, blonde hair in frustration. 

“Tsukki?”, Yamauguchi finally said, his eyes creased as he smiled wide.

Tsukishima was slightly startled to hear his name after sitting in focused silence for so long. He looked up, pen still in hand, but knew that no one but one special person would ever call him that name. Well... except for Bokuto, but thankfully _he_ was nowhere near Sendai. 

“Tadashi,” Tsukishima gave a small smile. While he wanted nothing more than to kiss his boyfriend, this was still his professional work setting. He settled for getting up out of his chair and giving Yamaguchi a short but tender hug. 

“What are you doing here? I texted you earlier that I was probably going to come home late,” Tsukishima asked.

“I wanted to surprise you! You didn’t have volleyball tonight and so I thought we’d celebrate a little,” Yamaguchi’s cheeks reddened slightly at his excitement. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, Tsukki didn’t really like surprises...

“Oh!”, Tsukishima exclaimed in reply, “that’s really nice of you for thinking of me like that, Tadashi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki. I know it’s kind of lame...”, Yamaguchi put his head down and looked at the ground. He knew that Tsukishima was not the person to do lame things with his nerdy boyfriend, but he wanted to do something nice for his day off. His fingers twiddled with the paper bag full of shortcake, twisting the handles. 

“Tadashi, I appreciate it very much,” Tsukishima said sincerely, putting his hand on Yamaguchi’s shoulder. He would have put his hand on Yamaguchi’s cheek, but once again it seemed inappropriate to do in the middle of the office. 

“Really?”, Yamaguchi looked up at the golden-eyed man, surprised. 

“Let me just gather my things and clock out, I’ll be right behind you,” Tsukishima turned away from him and started to put away his books to the side of his desk.

“Oh, okay!”, Yamaguchi exclaimed, feeling better that Tsukishima did not completely reject his proposal. He walked out of the office and stood by the doorway for a few minutes until Tsukishima walked up to him, briefcase and jacket in hand. 

While he wasn’t very big on displays of affection, Tsukishima didn’t want to hurt Yamaguchi’s feelings, and grasped his partner’s hand as they begin to walk out of the museum. He noticed Yamaguchi’s surprised glance at him, but Tsukishima did not comment on it, and instead began, “what did you have in mind for tonight?”

“Oh, uh... well,” Yamaguchi stuttered, “I thought maybe we could watch a movie together?” 

“I’d like that very much,” Tsukishima replied, squeezing his partner’s hand affirmingly. They walked in silence for a minute before he added, “can I ask what’s inside the bag?”

“Oh! um... I was gonna keep it a surprise, but it’s some slices of strawberry shortcake, your favorite,” Yamaguchi mumbled to the floor.

They had arrived at the entrance of the museum when Tsukishima came to a halt. Yamaguchi peered at his partner in confusion, about to ask if he had forgotten something, but Tsukishima stayed next to him. It was dark outside, so Tsukishima was less afraid of people staring at them. He cupped his hand on Yamaguchi’s cheek, causing the shorter man to blush furiously. 

“Tadashi, thank you. I mean it, it’s very thoughtful what you did.”

“Oh. Tsukki, it’s no big deal, I just-,” but Yamaguchi was interrupted with a short peck on the lips. The kiss was soft and just brushed his lips, but it made Yamaguchi’s brain turn to putty regardless. His ears burned as Tsukishima pulled away.

“Let’s get on the bus, before it leaves without us,” Tsukishima grabbed his hand again. 

On the ride back, Yamaguchi asked Tsukishima about the museum. It turned out that there would be a new exhibit opening up about “Cats in Japanese History” and Tsukishima was in charge of putting it together, hence his late night stays. 

“All this talk about cats reminds me of Nekoma,” Yamaguchi laughed, his fingers still intertwined with Tsukishima’s as they sat next to each other on the bus.

“Please don’t remind me. Hinata already texts too updates in the group chat about how he’s working with Kuroo and Kozume on something that I don’t care about,” Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

Yamaguchi only giggled, then rested his head on Tsukishima’s shoulder. This startled Tsukishima at first and he looked at Yamaguchi skeptically, but ultimately the freckled man looked so cute on his shoulder that Tsukishima didn’t say anything.

They stayed silent the rest of the ride, as Yamaguchi almost fell asleep and Tsukishima did not want to disturb him. 

Their apartment was still a couple blocks from the bus stop, so the pair strolled hand in hand, talking about Tsukishima’s next practice game. Halfway there, Yamaguchi’s teeth started to chatter, and he sneezed into the sleeve of his white button-up shirt.

“Tadashi? Are you okay?”, Tsukishima looked at him with concern. 

“I–, I’m fine,” Yamaguchi tried to put on his signature freckled smile, but Tsukishima was already taking his jacket off and handed it to his boyfriend.

“No, Tsukki, it’s reall–,” Yamaguchi started, but was interrupted by Tsukishima.

“I have a sweater on and a shirt underneath that. It’s no big deal to me and you really need it,” Tsukishima stated plainly.

“Th–, thanks, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi put the jacket on, but with Tsukishima being several inches taller and having longer limbs, the sleeves came down almost completely over Yamaguchi’s fingers and the shoulders made Yamaguchi look even smaller than normal. Tsukishima could barely handle how cute Yamaguchi looked, so he tried to keep his eyes on the road ahead to stop himself from attacking his boyfriend in kisses.

After Tsukishima unlocked the door to their apartment with the key, the pair put away their shoes and Yamaguchi went into the kitchen to put the cake slices into the fridge.

“Tadashi,” Tsukishima called, “is there something you’d like to eat for dinner? I don’t think we can just eat cake.”

“Oh no!” Yamaguchi scrunched up his face in disappointment, “I forgot about that part…”

Now in the safety of their own apartment, Tsukishima did not have to restrain himself from touching Yamaguchi to console him. He immediately went over to him and put his lean fingers on Yamaguchi’s cheek.

“There’s no worry. We’ll just order something. I’ll walk just down the street and pick up some noodles,” Tsukishima affirmed.

“I’m sorry, Tsukki…”, Yamaguchi tried to apologize but once again by Tsukishima’s kiss. This time, he did not pull away immediately. Yamaguchi wrapped his arms about Tsukishima’s neck, pulling him closer into him. Tsukishima seemed to always taste like strawberries, and Yamaguchi playfully kissed all around his mouth, then licked his lips as he moved away to take a breath.

“I’m going to go get our food,” Tsukishima whispered, his arms still on the small of Yamaguchi’s back. Yamaguchi gave him another freckled grin and replied, “ok, Tsukki, thanks.”

After Tsukishima put on his coat and headed out to get their dinner, Yamaguchi tidied up the apartment and went to go change into some comfier clothes. He put on some shorts, and then something caught his eye in Tsukishima’s dresser. It was one of Tsukishima’s volleyball team’s sweatshirts. It was, of course, going to be very large for Yamaguchi, but he put it on anyways, thinking that Tsukishima wouldn’t mind if he wore it. He was incredibly proud of his boyfriend for wanting to continue playing volleyball after high school. The sweatshirt, similar to the coat, had the sleeves go over Yamaguchi’s fingers and came down to below his hips. Finally feeling warmer, Yamaguchi made his way to the couch and attempted to find where he recorded “Jurassic Park” for their movie night tonight.

“Tadashi? I’m back,” he heard Tsukishima call from the door.

“I’m in here, Tsukki!”, Yamaguchi replied.

Tsukishima walked into the room to find dinosaurs on the TV and Yamaguchi in his sweatshirt. His eyes widened and he began to feel really warm all of the sudden. With the way he was sitting, Yamaguchi looked like he was being absorbed into the sweatshirt. Tsukishima couldn’t stop staring.

“Uh,” he paused and swallowed, “Tadashi, what are you wearing?”

“Oh, I… hope you don’t mind,” Yamaguchi stammered, covering his face with one of his sleeve-covered hands. 

“No!”, Tsukishima almost shouted, “it looks much better on you. The green doesn’t look good with my hair.”

“Tsukki, you look good in anything,” Yamaguchi confessed as he looked into the golden eyes of the man he loved, making Tsukishima blush uncontrollably. The taller man set down the food on the table and they began to unpack it all and start eating. Both tired and starving, the food was devoured quickly and in almost complete silence.

With all the trash put away, they turned on the movie, which Tsukishima had admittedly seen at least a dozen times, with Yamaguchi as well as with his brother, Akiteru. Tsukishima put his arm around Yamaguchi, feeling the soft material of his sweatshirt, and kissed Yamaguchi on the top of the head.

“Tsukkii…”, Yamaguchi whined, his hand instinctively flying up to pat his hair down.

Through the duration of the movie, the pair became more and more entwined. Yamaguchi had put his head on Tsukishima’s shoulder, then later he had moved his legs on top of his partners, keeping the both of them warm.

Halfway through, Yamaguchi squirmed out of their cuddle session and paused the movie.

“Cake time!”, he sang happily, getting off the couch and shuffling to the kitchen. He came back with the two slices and handed one to Tsukishima.

“Thank you,” Tsukishima eyed the cake, his mouth watering for his favorite dessert. He unpaused the movie and they continued to watch.

During the scene with the velociraptors, Yamaguchi’s least favorite, he put the sweatshirt hood up and buried his head into Tsukishima’s chest. The blonde man was expecting this, and waited with open arms, wrapping his long limbs around Yamaguchi and pulling him in tightly. Within only a couple minutes, he heard the dark-haired man’s soft snores, meaning Yamaguchi had once again fallen asleep in his arms. Tsukishima did his best not to move the entire rest of the movie, finally reaching for the remote and turning off the TV as the credits rolled.

“Ts–, Tsukki?”, Yamaguchi stirred in his arms, smacking his mouth as if waking up from a deep sleep.

“I’m right here,” Tsukishima replied quietly, “I guess you’re too tired to walk to bed?”

“Oh,” Yamaguchi blushed and started to move, “no, I can walk.”

“Not a chance,” Tsukishima cut him off, standing up with his boyfriend in his arms. Tsukishima wasn’t the most muscular, but Yamaguchi was lean as well, making him easy to carry. Plus, there was no way Tsukishima could resist his boyfriend in his oversized sweatshirt.

In the bedroom, Tsukishima laid Yamaguchi down on the bed and went to go fix himself up for bed. Yamaguchi crawled under the covers and put in his mouthguard while Tsukishima occupied the bathroom. When the dentist had first told him that he grinded his teeth and needed to wear one at night, Yamaguchi was quite ashamed because he didn’t want Tsukishima to think he was gross. But of course, his boyfriend was as supportive as possible and tried to relax Yamaguchi before bed so that the grinding would be less severe.

Tsukishima reemerged from the bathroom in black shorts and a purple t-shirt with a small moon printed on the chest pocket. Wordlessly, he drew up the covers and sat on the bed. The freckled man already had his eyes closed but was not asleep yet. Tsukishima admired his partner and how small he looked, taking in everything from his freckles to the curvature of his jawline, moving his hand to caress Yamaguchi’s head. He then adjusted to become the big spoon, draping his arm over the shorter man and sliding him into his chest. 

“I love you, Yamaguchi,” he whispered into the ear of the almost-sleeping man.

“I wub yoom, too,” Yamaguchi mumbled into Tsukishima’s sweatshirt, half asleep. Tsukishima’s heart ached at this response, overwhelmed by his adoration for Yamaguchi. He kissed Yamaguchi’s head once more before closing his own eyes, feeling the warmth of Yamaguchi on his chest. He fell asleep thinking about a plan to propose to Yamaguchi if his volleyball team won an important game, like a division championship. That would be the ultimate celebration, Tsukishima decided, commemorating a win with the biggest win of his life: making Yamaguchi his forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know in the comments if this was too freakin fluffy lmao   
> these sleepy pairings also just keep getting longer, whoops


	5. Ushijima & Tendou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UshiTen for chapter 5!
> 
> I literally love both of these kiddos so much, they're so clueless but so cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry if any part of this is incoherent, I am so exhausted from work and my proofreading eyes are just not what they used to be :P

The aroma of chocolate filled Ushijima’s nostrils and made his mind swirl with various hues of chocolate as the dark-olive haired man stepped into the chocolate shop, the bell at the top of the door ringing as he pushed it open.

“Bonjour!”, the store clerk said to him from behind the counter. Ushijima nodded at her politely, then continued towards the back of the store. It was still odd for him being in Paris where he didn’t know the language at all. Even after over a year of playing in Poland he barely knew how to ask for directions in Polish, never mind trying to learn French.

At the back of the store, there was a large window to allow tourists and children to watch the chocolate being made. Today, on a rainy Wednesday, there was only a small child and his mother standing by the window. The child kept pointing and speaking in French to his mother, his eyes wide and in awe. Ushijima wandered up behind them and his face grew into a soft smile as he looked at what the child was gawking at. Behind the grey-marbled granite counter, a very tall, lanky man dressed in all white was playfully whisking chocolate in a large silver bowl. His white chef’s hat was hiding a red-colored buzzcut, but the expression on his face was as goofy as Ushijima remembered it.

The mother shooed the child away from the window, muttering to herself about all the errands she needed to run, so Ushijima moved closer to the window. He patiently folded his hands behind his back and watched as the chocolatier tossed whiskfuls of the chocolate up high over the bowl. As it splashed back down, he laughed and smiled as some dots of chocolate got onto his bright white jacket. Ushijima felt a small pang in his chest as he watched the chocolatier, wishing he could watch him in his element every day, completely carefree and blissful.

Abruptly, the red-haired man stopped what he was doing and looked to see who was in the window. Upon landing his gaze on Ushijima, the whisk fell out of his hand and his face grew into the largest smile, his eyes lighting up immediately. Through the glass, Ushijima could almost make out a muffled, “WAKATOSHI-KUN!”, come from the man. This shocked Ushijima slightly, concerned about someone coming to find that the chocolatier was not at work and slacking off during business hours. Without a second glance at the bowl, the chocolatier ran out of the kitchen and up to the back of the shop.

“TOSHI!”, the red-headed man yelled again, running at full speed toward Ushijima, his long, lanky arms thrown up over his head. Even though they were almost the same height, he threw himself at Ushijima, the larger of the two staggering back slightly as he caught the man and wrapped one arm around him to steady them both.

“Satori,” Ushijima whispered into Tendou’s ear as they hugged. Ushijima was always radiating heat, and Tendou felt like he was experiencing the first warmth of sunlight after a long winter. After what seemed like only seconds, Tendou stepped back and admired his partner.

“Toshi, you clean up nice!”, Tendou grinned from ear to ear as he looked Ushijima up and down, dressed in plain brown slacks and a light blue button-down shirt. Ushijima’s ears burned from the compliment, and he only managed a nod in return, unable to come up with a response that seemed appropriate.

“Still the strong and silent type, huh?”, Tendou winked, “it’s okay. I do lots of talking anyways. How was the trip down? I hope you didn’t get washed away in the rain!”

“It was alright, I have an umbrella,” Ushijima replied, gesturing to the large black umbrella in his hand.

“Ah, of course! Silly me,” Tendou shook his head teasingly, “oh no! Looks like I got some chocolate on your shirt there!”, the former middle blocker cried.

Ushijima looked down at his chest, and indeed, there was a small, brown spot near one of the buttons. Tendou started to mutter in panic, “oh no, should I rub it with a towel? I never pay attention to my stains, they always just come out in the wash!”

“Satori,” Ushijima said quietly, trying to bring Tendou back to the present from his spiral. The red-haired man still twitched nervously, looking around for ways to get rid of the stain.

“Tendou,” Ushijima stated more firmly. Tendou stopped and turned back to him, looking Ushijima directly in the eyes.

“I do not really care for this shirt; it is only a piece of fabric that I once purchased in a shop. Plus, we are going to your apartment, where no one will notice and we can put it in the wash,” he calmly explained.

“Oh! You’re right. You really are my miracle boy, Wakatoshi-kun!”, the smile on Tendou’s face returned, “you’re totally right, silly me!”

“It is only two, would you like me to return after the shop closes? I do not want you to miss work,” Ushijima asked.

“Oh! Haha, work! Totally forgot that was a thing,” Tendou rolled his eyes, “yes! If you don’t mind waiting?”

“I can easily make myself busy, walk along the streets and observe the culture,” Ushijima responded.

“Great! I’ll see you at six thirty, then!”, Tendou called as he already started to walk away, muttering to himself about a new ingredient he must try and add to the truffles. Ushijima let out a sigh and shook his head at the wonder that was Tendou Satori, amazed at how fast he was able to move from one thought to the next.

Killing time as Tendou worked, Ushijima found himself immersed in Parisian culture. The streets looked much different than in Japan, but not unwelcoming. Thankfully, there were a few places that did not require him to speak French, so he managed to get around with his limited English skills. He had ordered a dinner to go for Tendou and himself, as he was sure that Tendou was not the best cook, even if he did make divine chocolate. Of course, he also purchased a large container of chocolate ice cream, Tendou’s favorite, for dessert. In one of the more formal department stores, he also found himself a new shirt, immediately replacing the one with the chocolate stain and putting the stained one in the bag.

With an hour left until Tendou was done with work, Ushijima sat at a small table in a café, watching the people as they walked by. Some of them seemed to be in such a rush, he didn’t understand where the hurry was. If you rushed things, you did them inaccurately. Good things took time and patience and the willingness to make them work, which is why he and Tendou had not gotten together very quickly. Ushijima was slow to realize just how deep Tendou’s feelings were for him, but Tendou didn’t ever seem to mind that Ushijima was unable to pick up on romantic hints. This is why he loved Tendou: he never expected anything more than what Ushijima could offer him. While long distance had hurt their physical connection, Tendou still called Ushijima whenever he wasn’t playing matches or practices games, and kept Ushijima informed on his life. Ushijima was sure that he would never find someone like Tendou ever again, which is why he held onto him as closely as he could. He worried that his simple and practical mind would not be enough for someone as artistic as Tendou, but he had yet to hear Tendou ever voice a complaint.

The rain hadn’t cleared yet but was only lightly drizzling as Ushijima stood under the chocolate shop’s canopy, large umbrella in hand, ready for when Tendou came out of work. At six on the dot, Ushijima looked through the shop window, but didn’t see Tendou anywhere on the sales floor. His forehead creased in concern, was something keeping him? Ushijima didn’t mind waiting, but he started to worry. Only minutes later, Tendou came flying out the kitchen door, a small, white, plastic container in his hand. Halfway through running through the shop, his chef’s hat flew off his head and fell to the ground behind him. Ushijima started to open his mouth to warn his partner, but Tendou didn’t even give it a second glance, bounding out the front door to Ushijima.

“Hiya!”, Tendou eagerly exclaimed, panting slightly.

“Satori, your hat,” Ushijima pointed at his partner’s now bare head, exposing his stubbly, red hair.

“Agh, whatever. It’s no longer work hours, I’m all yours!”, Tendou gave Ushijima another wide smile. 

“Uh-,” Ushijima began but closed his mouth. 

Tendou grabbed Ushijima’s hand and waited patiently, fidgeting as Ushijima opened the umbrella with his free hand. He felt the familiar calluses of his partner’s larger, more rough hand, and instantly had all his work thoughts disappear. 

“My apartment’s not far, so don’t worry yourself about getting too wet,” Tendou mused.

They strolled through the city streets, hand in hand. Neither said anything, but both could feel the other’s presence through their fingers, like an electrical pulse moving from one man to the other. After a little while, Tendou started humming a melody that Ushijima only vaguely recognized, swinging their intertwined fingers to the tempo. 

They arrived at an older, white stone building with black, metal railings. Tendou let go of Ushijima’s hand and dug into his pockets for his key. Ushijima tried to warn him that he was going to get wet, but Tendou was already sprinting to the door before he could get a word out. The rain was cold but refreshing, as Tendou was often overheating in the warmth of the ovens at work. 

“I’m on the third floor, nice and high!”, Tendou explained cheerfully. Nothing, not even the rain or work, could stop him from enjoying his boyfriend’s presence. After unlocking the door, he waved Ushijima inside, the taller man carefully folding the umbrella and shaking out the remaining water before stepping in. 

“Sorry the elevator’s out, and I know how much you hate the stairs, but,” Tendou teased.

“Satori, I am a professional athlete, I do not hate-,” Ushijima started to explain, but Tendou cut him off.

“I know, I know, I’m just teasin’ ya,” Tendou playfully smacked Ushijima’s bicep as they started up the stairs. Ushijima’s brows only furrowed in confusion, making Tendou giggle further.

They reached the door of the apartment and Tendou hesitated before opening it, turning to Ushijima.

“It’s not much... I don’t exactly live on an internationally-known volleyball player’s salary,” Tendou fidgeted with his key, looking at the individual grooves.

He suddenly felt his chin being lifted up; Ushijima’s dark eyes gazed into his with nothing but adoration. 

“Satori. You know I do not ever judge you or your choices. I’m sure your apartment is absolutely lovely.”

Tendou’s cheeks burned, his face almost matching the color of his hair, “thanks, Waka...”

They stepped into the apartment and sure enough, it was exactly Tendou’s style. Stacks of manga were in piles around the living room and everything seemed neatly out of order. It wasn’t dirty, the sink was clear of dishes and the floor looked recently swept, but it looked like Tendou’s belongings had exploded across the room. 

“It is perfect for you,” Ushijima said, taking a survey of the room.

“Aw, thanks!” Tendou replied. He wanted to add that he wished it would be perfect for both of them, but he knew that Ushijima would never move anywhere that he couldn’t play volleyball. 

They walked over to the kitchen, and both set down their containers.

“I bought us dinner,” Ushijima stated at the same time as Tendou spoke up.

“Do you want me to cook us something?”

Both men started laughing, and Tendou came over and slipped his arms around Ushijima. It was unexpected to him, and Ushijima stiffened at first, but quickly realized what was happening and melted into Tendou.

“…Toshi?”, Tendou whispered, squirming in Ushijima’s arms after a few moments.

“Yes?”

“Uh, do you think you can let go of me so we can eat?”

“Oh!”, Ushijima immediately released him and looked at Tendou with a straight face, “I am so sorry. I did not realize–,”

“Shh, I missed you, too. We can cuddle more on the couch after I get some food in me,” Tendou smiled and patted Ushijima’s arm.

The two set off to open the to-go containers and grab plates. They sat down at Tendou’s small dining table and ate peacefully until all the containers were empty.

“I bought your favorite, chocolate ice–,” Ushijima started to say but Tendou once again interrupted.

“I made some special chocolates for us!”

Tendou giggled while Ushijima pursed his lips.

“Toshi-kun, I’ve never heard you this talkative, let alone interrupt me!”

“I am very sorry, Satori, I did not mean to.”

“I’m totally messing with you, I love it when you talk!”, Tendou exclaimed.

“I–, I love _you_ , Satori,” Ushijima blurted out, his cheeks immediately flushing.

He didn’t even have time to say anything else when Tendou got up from his seat and flung himself into Ushijima’s lap. His long limbs wrapped around Ushijima’s neck and he pecked him all over his face, finally settling on his mouth for a longer, more intense kiss.

“I love you, my miracle boy,” Tendou beamed and gave Ushijima one last hug before returning to the kitchen and grabbing the container. He opened the box and inside were six, beautifully decorated chocolate truffles.

“Tada!”, Tendou posed pridefully.

“They look very appetizing, Satori. The aroma from the box is as strong as from when I first entered the shop.”

“They’re my own secret recipe! Not yet available for sale,” Tendou winked, “…but you said something about chocolate ice cream?”

“Ah, yes. In the other bag that I set on the counter,” Ushijima pointed.

“Woohoo!”, Tendou wiggled as he grabbed a spoon and scooped some out from the container. He walked back to the table and watched carefully as Ushijima selected a truffle and put it in his mouth.

“Satori, these are very good,” Ushijima stated after chewing for a moment, “there is a hint of something that I do not understand, as I am not a chocolatier. However, it is most delightful to eat, though I should not have too many for my diet.”

Tendou only laughed in reply, and ruffled Ushijima’s hair, “always the proper critic.”

He grasped Ushijima’s hand and pulled him out of his seat, dragging him to the living room. He gave Ushijima another playful kiss on the lips before settling onto the couch. Both their mouths still tasting like chocolate, Tendou licked his lips and made a sound of delight.

“You know, Toshi?”

“Hmm?”, Ushijima was still flustered by Tendou’s kissing. Even though he and Tendou had been dating for years, it always surprised Ushijima how much he enjoyed having Tendou’s lips on his.

“I’m… kind of too full to walk to bed,” Tendou giggled.

“Yes, I know what you mean. I have eaten a lot of food as well,” Ushijima agreed.

“No,” Tendou shook his head, continuing to laugh, “that’s your cue to offer to carry me to bed!”

“Oh! Pardon me, I did not realize,” Ushijima scrunched up his face, angry at himself for not picking up the romantic signal.

“There’s no need to apologize, you’re too cute for me to ever get upset,” Tendou put his hand on his forehead and pretended to swoon.

Ushijima stood up and grabbed Tendou like a sack of potatoes and threw him over his shoulders. He only got a couple steps before Tendou poked Ushijima’s cheek with one of his long, spindly fingers.

“Uh, Waka?”

“Yes, Satori? Did I do something wrong?”, Ushijima heart started to beat faster.

“Well, feeling super full, it doesn’t feel great to have your broad shoulder pressing into my stomach,” Tendou confessed.

“I am very sorry,” Ushijima quickly set Tendou on the ground, “may I try again?”

“Of course, don’t even worry about it!”, Tendou reassured him. In one fell swoop, Ushijima swept Tendou off his feet and held him in his arms.

“Is this better?”, he asked unsurely.

“Like I’m being carried on a cloud,” Tendou closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t open his eyes again as he felt Ushijima gently place him on the bed and tuck the covers up to Tendou’s shoulders.

He then waited for Ushijima’s weight to shift the mattress, but it never came. He cracked his eyes open and looked around the room.

“Uh, Toshi? Are you not getting in with me?”

Ushijima suddenly reappeared in the doorway, “I–, I was just grabbing my pajamas.”

Tendou let out air from his nostrils and settled back in his comfy position, “of course, silly me!”

There was no reason to worry, Tendou thought to himself, Ushijima wasn’t going anywhere.

A few moments later, Tendou finally felt the mattress shift under Ushijima’s weight, and the warmth that Tendou craved finally was his again. The ace of Shiratorizawa placed his arms around Tendou and squeezed tightly, vowing silently to never let him go. Tendou rotated towards him and buried his face in Ushijima’s chest, knowing this would be the best sleep he would have in a long time. 


	6. Bokuto & Akaashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BokuAka! 
> 
> Akaashi is gorgeous, change my mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! aaahhhh I'm so sorry for taking literally like a several week hiatus.  
> I was just genuinely not inspired to find a story line for the last three of these but we're back! we made it!

Akaashi had never been one for outward romance. His husband of a few years, boyfriend for several more, and best friend for even longer was the only person that he had ever truly been romantic with, which wasn’t saying much. While handsome, Bokuto was completely clueless to romantic gestures, which was weakness #128 of his. 

In high school, long before they were dating, Akaashi would consistently stay behind after their official practice was over and would set for any and all of Bokuto’s “extra practice spikes”. While he wanted their team to win, Akaashi’s true intentions were to spend time with Bokuto. Of course, this went completely unnoticed and Bokuto only thanked Akaashi for his setting skills until one day, Akaashi finally gathered up the courage to say something. 

That was why for their ninth anniversary of dating, Akaashi wasn’t expecting much. Bokuto was a simple man, and Akaashi knew that even a long and tight hug could overwhelm him sometimes. 

Akaashi had gotten up before Bokuto to head into work that morning. Scribbling a little note saying where he was going (this would avoid a panicked phone call from Boktuo at 11am), he gave his snoring husband a kiss on the forehead and walked to the train. Black coffee in hand, he caught up on one of the novels that had been piling on his nightstand and thought about what he was going to have for dinner. 

Akaashi had actually assumed that Bokuto had forgotten about their anniversary, because Bokuto had made plans with one of their old high school rivals, Kuroo Tetsurou, tonight for dinner. Maybe he would just order some onigiri? Bokuto rarely let him eat them because they’re “not as nutritious as real food.”

 _If it’s edible, it’s real food_ , Akaashi thought as he rolled his eyes to himself, remembering his husband’s accusatory tone in his head. 

The next few hours at work dragged on, with Akaashi trying to find things to do in his office to pass the time. There wasn’t much to do on the days when there weren’t any manga pages to review, so Akaashi created games for himself in between crosswords and sudoku pages. For example, he crumpled up pieces of paper that were supposed to go into the shredder, and he attempted to set them into the correct bin. So far, he was averaging about a 65% success rate. 

As expected, Bokuto called him on the office phone as soon as the professional volleyball player got up.

“AGhhAaaShheeeeee,” Bokuto almost screeched into the phone.

“Hi Kotaro,” Akaashi said quietly into the phone.

“Awww, I love the sound of my name coming from your lips,” Bokuto giggled.

Akaashi rolled his eyes and sighed, “did you need something from me, did you make breakfast alright?”

“Keiji, I am a fully grown male. I am not completely incompetent …and yes, I had my frosted cereal for breakfast and–.”

“That’s not food,” Akaashi interrupted him.

“Yes, it is! It has iron in it! Good for my bones!”, Bokuto answered.

Akaashi drew a deep breath and let it out into the phone, “of course. Well, today is not a very busy day at work so I might get out early, but I know you have that dinner with Kuroo.”

“…Ah. Yes. That. Of course!”

“Bokuto-san why are you being weird about it?”, Akaashi knew that mischievous tone all too well. Usually within several hours, Bokuto would enter one of his “emo modes” because his plan didn’t proceed correctly.

“AghAAShI, please. It’s nothing. Everything is great. The sun is shining, I’ve had sugar. I get to spike some volleyballs today.”

“Ok, Kotaro. I guess I believe you. I’m going to get back to work now.”

“Byyyeeeeeeee,” Bokuto droned, but Akaashi hung up the phone quickly.

He loved his husband, but sometimes he swore that Bokuto’s energy capacity had only increased with age. Most of the time, Akaashi was able to tone it down or at least handle it in a way that didn’t mean having Bokuto bounce off the walls. But since Bokuto had copious amounts of sugar in his breakfast this morning, there was little that Akaashi could do to try and maintain him (weakness #52).

There was some paperwork dropped off for him around noon, which gave Akaashi something to do until Bokuto called him again at one thirty.

“AKaaaASHiiii. I’M SO UPSET,” Bokuto yelled into the phone.

“What’s wrong? Do I need to call an ambulance?”, Akaashi started to panic, hoping that this wasn’t the predecessor to an “emo mode” episode.

“No. No no, I’m fine. It’s that cat bastard,” Bokuto scoffed.

“I’m… sorry?”

“Kuroo. You know… Nekoma’s whole thing is cat? Akaashi, it’s like you’ve completely forgotten our high school adventures.”

“Oh. Of course. My mistake… wait, what’s wrong with Kuroo?”

“Nothing’s _wrong_ with him, he’s just the dick who cancelled on me! Can you believe that! Some event with Kenma is more important. Picking something over his bro, I’m just so offended.”

“Bokuto, I’m sure he’ll make it up to you.”

“…perhaps. Anyways, I think we might have long practice tonight, so I don’t know what time I’ll be home.”

“…Oh. Oh, okay,” Akaashi sighed, pouting slightly in his office. Maybe Bokuto really didn’t remember.

“gotta go, bye!”, Bokuto shouted suddenly and hung up. Akaashi sat in his office and put his head in his hands, taking off his glasses and setting them on the desk. He was more confused than ever at the marvel that was his husband, but he was too tired to deal with it right now.

Around three, his supervisor came in and informed Akaashi that he could go home early if he wanted, because there was really no more work to do around the office. Akaashi gathered up his belongings slowly and walked back to the train station, the car filled with high school-aged children coming back from lessons. It made his heart ache remembering how he and Bokuto used to take the train after school on the days that they didn’t have practice. Bokuto would already be halfway wrestled out of his uniform, shirt untucked and tie loosened, complaining about the heat and stiffness of the clothes.

Arriving at the apartment, Akaashi found all of the lights turned off and no one home. He sighed and hung his coat on the hanger. Trudging to the kitchen, he made himself another cup of coffee. With many late nights at university and in the office during the early years of his career, Akaashi had a not-so-healthy addiction to coffee. Over the years he had went from one cup to two, and now usually three. He reasoned with himself that he would stop drinking it when Bokuto ran out of energy. Unfortunately, that left him with little evidence of quitting the bad habit any time soon.

Akaashi sat down on the couch, still in his formal business clothes, and started leafing through one of the novels on the table. Had he read this one? The plot was only starting to come back to him when his phone rang again with Bokuto’s third call of the day. Akaashi answered quickly, because Bokuto would normally not be calling during practice, something must be wrong.

“Bokuto-san? Is something wrong? Why are you calling during practice?”, he spoke quickly into the phone.

“Keiji, can you come to the park?”, Bokuto asked sweetly on the other end.

“Bokuto, that doesn’t answer my question. Why are you at the park? What about practice? Did you skip?”, Akaashi fired off more questions, standing up off the couch and getting his coat off the rack.

“No no no, relax. Just, get over to the park. For meeeeeee.”

“I’m on my way. Do I need to bring something? Bandaids? Medication?”  
“Just your cute self, AghAAShi,” Bokuto giggled and the phone clicked as he hung up on Akaashi for the second time today.

While Bokuto had not sounded in pain, Akaashi still hurriedly ran over to the park, very confused on what was happening. Why was Bokuto at the park?

The park wasn’t far from their apartment and Akaashi arrived within a few minutes. He at first couldn’t find Bokuto, looking near the running path and the pond. However, he finally spotted Bokuto in the open field. As he walked closer, he found his husband wearing a navy suit and next to him was a picnic set up with a blanket and several plates of food.

“SURPRISE!”, Bokuto shouted with a large grin on his face as Akaashi came within a few feet.

“Bokuto-san, I–, I don’t understand,” Akaashi felt his cheeks redden and he adjusted his glasses to shield his face from slight embarrassment.

“You didn’t think I would get our most special anniversary, did you?”, Bokuto feigned shock, putting his hand on his chest.

“Well, I just didn’t think we were doing anything… I–, I don’t know what to say…”, Akaashi stood awkwardly, holding one arm in the other.

“Don’t say anything! Come sit down!”, Bokuto plopped down on the blanket in the grass and gestured to the seat next to him.

Akaashi begrudgingly walked over and sat down next to his partner, unable to contain his guilt.

He began, “Kotaro, I’m so sorry for not–.”

“Keiji, I don’t even want to hear it. You do things for me every year. This is the big one! Your number, five, plus my number, four, adds up to nine! And it’s our ninth anniversary! Of course I was going to go big. I couldn’t just go home,” Bokuto shook his head as if in disbelief at Akaashi’s apology.

Akaashi began to blush even more furiously.

“Here!”, Bokuto grabbed the plate of onigiri, “it’s your favoriteee,” he sang.

Akaashi couldn’t resist and grabbed one off of the plate and munched on it. Mouth half full of food, he came back to his senses again.

“But wait! What happened with Kuroo, and practice? You can’t skip, you–.”

“Oh Akaashi,” Bokuto scoffed, “I would never skip practice! We really had off tonight, and Kuroo and I are seeing each other this weekend. Everything is fine, you worry too much!”

Akaashi was shocked that Bokuto had managed to pull this off without spilling the secret. There was almost no way he had done it on his own…

“Bokuto, but who helped you pla–.”

“Sshhh. It was Kenma, okay? Now eat your food before I devour it all,” Bokuto lipped his lips.

Akaashi let out a chuckle and decided to let it go and enjoy the moment. Hours passed and the pair sat and ate, drank, and caught up on their lives. Akaashi had really missed the dating aspect of their relationship, where Bokuto could make him laugh or smile no matter what. Towards the end of the evening, with Bokuto resting his head on Akaashi’s thigh, Akaashi let out a sigh. He was stroking Bokuto’s grey-and-black colored hair, but at his sigh, the spiker had sat up.

“What’s wrong, ‘kaashi?”, Bokuto pouted, “are you not having a good time?”

Akaashi cupped his hand on Bokuto’s cheek and leaned towards him for a quick kiss, forgetting his social boundaries for a split second. Bokuto’s cheeks brightened and he smiled widely, “what was that for?”

“Kotaro, I’m having the best time. I love you. But I’m just so tired, I don’t think I can walk home,” Akaashi’s lips formed a straight line.

“That’s not a problem!”, Bokuto shouted, getting up off the blanket, “I’ll just carry you!”

As he started to grab Akaashi under his arms to lift him up, Akaashi’s eyes widened and he shouted, “no, no! That’s not what I meant, I––.”

It was too late. Bokuto had already lifted Akaashi onto his feet, and draped Akaashi’s arm over his shoulder. With one last, swift motion, Bokuto had Akaashi in his arms.

“Bokuto-san, your suit! Please, really, I’ll walk! What about the food?”, Akaashi grew more flustered at the thought of anyone seeing him like this.

“Don’t be silly, ‘Kaashi. Kenma and my best bro are right behind that tree over there and are ready to pounce on this when we leave,” Bokuto informed him.

“THEY’RE WHAT! BOKUTO!”, Akaashi started squirming in Bokuto’s arms to get down, but the spiker was too strong.

Bokuto’s laughter boomed through the trees and he started to walk out of the park towards their apartment, Akaashi still in his arms.

Inside the apartment, Bokuto wouldn’t put Akaashi down until he placed him on their bed, gently on top of the covers.

“Now,” Bokuto exclaimed, “I’m going to change into some shorts, and how about you give me more of those kisses?”

Still dizzy from being swung around when Bokuto walked up the stairs, Akaashi slowly lifted his head up from the bed, “huh?”.

As soon as it registered, Bokuto had already retreated into the bathroom and Akaashi shouted after him, “I’ll never forgive you for this, Bokuto! You’re absolutely ridiculous!”

Now in grey shorts and an old black t-shirt, Bokuto stepped back into the bedroom with his signature wide smile, “I’m only ridiculous when it comes to you.”

Before Akaashi could have the chance to say anything else, Bokuto kissed him and shut him up very quickly. 

He may be loud and unaware of his surroundings and just really loud, but Bokuto was the only one for him, and Akaashi couldn’t have been happier to be his. 


	7. Kageyama & Hinata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hehehe "Kageyama lasto"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends!  
> It's been a hot minute, hasn't it. Sorry about that, started school and did a bunch of other shit. Also had no idea how to write this last chapter.... 
> 
> ANYWAYS!  
> here we are! last one!  
> Kags and our sunshine child, emitting chaos wherever they go

For everyone who Kageyama could not stand, there was one person who made him angrier than the rest. Ever since that first time in a middle school volleyball match, Hinata Shouyou had consistently been in his way. In the way of Kageyama's setting on the court, in the way of his running on the sidewalk, in the way of that time when he wanted to beat up Tsukishima (although Yamaguchi was more productive at separating them in the end). But, Hinata was still his teammate.

And…

Well…

He kind of wanted to ask him out.

It was still unclear to Kageyama most days what the heck this small tangerine boy had done to gain a soft spot in Kageyama’s heart, but he knew that he didn’t want to live without him. They had been on the same year for years, then rivals, then back on the same team for the Olympics, and they had watched all of their teammates pair off (what was with that?), but the two of them had never really gotten like that. Hinata was just excited about volleyball and Kageyama was excited about winning.

So, since they were practicing together again, Kageyama decided it was time to ask this idiot of a shrimp to be with him. Except, he had no idea how…

They had a fifteen-minute break before the game in the gym, so Kageyama stepped outside and took out his phone.

“Hello?”, a calm but squeaky voice answered after he had dialed.

“Yamaguchi. Uh, hi.”

“Kageyama-kun! H- how are you?”, Yamaguchi sounded worried as to why Kageyama was calling him.

“I’m fine. …Well.”

“What’s wrong?”, Yamaguchi asked.

“It’s nothing.”

This was stupid… Kageyama didn’t have the courage to do this. He would just wait for Hinata to say something. That idiot sometimes had bright ideas and yelled random things.

“Kageyama. I know you’re terrible at communicating, but what are you trying to say?”

“I– I want to ask Hinata to Li- live,” Kageyama confessed.

“Ka– Kageyama, I don’t think Hinata’s dying,” Yamaguchi laughed through the phone.

“No! Lunch– l, like, me! Together, like. A pair.” Kageyama groaned and slapped his hand against his forehead.

“Oh! …I thought you guys were already together.”

“No. When we were training for the Olympics, we were close, but no.”

“Oh, okay. Well, when do you want to ask him?”

“We have our first practice game in a while tonight.”

“TONIGHT? Kageyama! That’s not a lot of time! Why didn’t you do anything about this sooner!”

Yamaguchi was the captain of their high school volleyball team their third and final year, and his captain side was coming out as Kageyama listened to him yell at him over the phone. Still in Miyagi, Yamaguchi lived with his own boyfriend, the ever-annoying Saltishima.

“Yeah, well. I was busy, okay?”, Kageyama responded.

“Yes, yes, volleyball and volleyball only, I know. But okay. Do you want to take him to dinner, or say it in front of the team after the game, or?”

“What! I just wanted you to help me find the words! I have to do something dramatic like that?”

This was going to be much harder than Kageyama wanted it to be…

“Well, I mean you don’t _have_ to. Your communication skills are almost as terrible as they were when you first met…”

“You spend too much time with Tsukishima,” Kageyama scoffed.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. Back to Hinata. How about you take him to go get food after the game, and you can ask him with just the two of you around?”

“Hmm,” Kageyama considered it, “okay.”

“Okay? That’s it?”

“…Is there something else I’m supposed to do?”

“Well where are you going to take him! What are you going to say?”

“Uh… ‘will you go out with me?’, what else would I say?”

“You gotta build up to it! Tell him how much he means to you!”

All of the sudden, Kageyama saw Hinata walking towards him.

“Uh, thanks Yamaguchi. I gotta go,”

“Wait! You can’t just! Ugh, tell me how it goe–,” but Kageyama had already hung up.

“What do you want, dumbass?”, Kageyama called.

“Can’t you ever say something nice?”, Hinata moaned, dropping his shoulders.

“Not when you’re constantly interrupting things,” Kageyama growled back.

“All I came out here to say was that the break is almost done, don’t know why you’re in such a bad mood…”, Hinata walked back into the gym.

Kageyama now felt worse than before. Hinata made him so aggravated, but he also made him very happy. It was difficult to express his feelings accurately.

He walked back into the gym, and gave the practice game his all, spiking and setting some of his aggression into the ball. Of course, they won the game easily. Their quick was ever evolving, and other teams never could keep up.

The team sat in the locker room after the game, getting dressed. Kageyama changed quickly into an old grey sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. He then walked over to Hinata, his eyes to the floor and hands in his pockets.

“Uh… boke?”, he spoke softly.

“Huh?”, Hinata looked up after putting his shirt through his head.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Kageyama said more firmly, still looking at the floor.

“…Is this your way of asking me that you want to see who will eat the most chicken nuggets again?”

“What?”, Kageyama furrowed his brows and shook his head, “no! No. Ugh, just get dressed,” Kageyama stomped away. He waited outside the locker room until Hinata came out.

“So where are we going?”, Hinata finally walked out in his warmups, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Meat buns. What else?”, Kageyama eyed Hinata for his reaction.

“Oh, yum!”, Hinata made no indication that this seemed out of the ordinary. Kageyama realized that he would be on edge for the rest of the night, and internally groaned.

The two walked side by side through the streets of Tokyo, with Hinata pointing out random things in stores, in the sky, all while tossing up a volleyball. With wide eyes, Kageyama watched the orange-haired man bounce all over the place. He was still short, even after all these years, but there was nothing more that Kageyama wanted than to place his chin on top of Hinata’s head and hug him. It was a weird feeling. Physical affection wasn’t something Kageyama understood. Come to think of it, he didn’t really know how to double high-five until high school…

“Kageyama-kun, you’ve never been this quiet before! …Except for when you’re angry at me. Are you angry?”, Hinata tested.

“Huh?”, Kageyama was made aware of his silence and stiffened his back, “no, I– I’m just thinking.”

Hinata abruptly stopped and tilted his head in pondering, “you know how to think?”

“Y– BOKE I’LL KILL YOU!”, Kageyama yelled and started chasing Hinata up the street.

“YIKES!”, Hinata screamed before taking off in a sprint. Even after several sets of volleyball, the weirdo duo (dubbed by Tsukishima) couldn’t be bothered to be tired.

Kageyama ran after Hinata until they were a block away from the restaurant.

He then slowed down and held out his hand, “alright, alright. You win. 395-394.”

Hinata turned around and beamed with pride. The pair went inside and retrieved Hinata’s prized meat buns and took them in bags out to the small park nearby. They found an empty bench, with Hinata scarfing down a bun before Kageyama could even sit down. He cautiously sat not too close to Hinata, not wanting to draw suspicion. Kageyama, too, was hungry, so the pair ate in silence, only the rustling sound of the bags could be heard in between chews.

After they had finished, Kageyama started, “so…”, then ended up mumbling.

“Huh? Speak up. Do you still have food in your mouth?”, Hinata asked curiously.

Kageyama closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

_Do not punch him, this is not the time._

He opened them and looked back at the man he dreamed about at night sometimes, who was wearing his signature large smile on his face. This made Kageyama relax, and he tried again, “idiot, shut up.”

Hinata scrunched up his face in confusion, “are you okay? Did you get hit with a stray ball today?”

“HINATA YOU DUMBASS, I’M NOT HAVING A STROKE,” Kageyama yelled, which caused Hinata to snicker, “WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME?”

“Okay, what? Kageyama you’re attacking weird tonight, stop yelling at me.”

“Wilpyougogowiffme?”

“Huh? I don’t understand.”

Kageyama stood up, dropping his empty bag on the ground, “HINATA YOU WILL GO OUT WITH ME!”

“I am out with you? We’re outside,” Hinata looked around him, as if making sure.

Kageyama turned a bright crimson, picked up his bag, and started walking away.

“Kageyamaaaaa, where are you going?”, Hinata stood up and started following him. Kageyama aggressively stuffed his bag in the trash and refused to look at Hinata, unable to control his temper.

“Kageeyama. Kageyyyama. Kageyaamaaa. Hello? Did I say something wrong?”, Hinata incessantly poked the taller man’s arm.

They stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. Kageyama was trapped. He had no choice but to answer.

“I don’t mean outside. I mean with me.”

“With you, what?”

“Um… go out. With… me?”, Kageyama refused to look Hinata in the eye.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”, Hinata was still confused.

“No? You’re not my boyfriend.”

“I’m not? Why do you buy me food then?”

At this point, Kageyama burst.

“HUH???? What are you talking about, we get food because you’re forever annoying me and I get hungry! How did you think we were dating? What? You’re such a dumbass!"

Hinata didn’t say anything for a minute, but as they crossed the street, Kageyama felt something touch his hand and hold on. He jumped and looked down that it was Hinata grabbing his hand and holding it. Kageyama turned bright red once again and scowled. This little orange shit owned his heart and there was nothing he could do.

“So what else are we gonna do? I’m too tired to keep walking…”, Hinata slowed down and pulled Kageyama backwards.

“Well, my place isn’t too far from here,” Kageyama stated awkwardly.

“Oh yay! Sleepover!”, Hinata exclaimed, not able to read Kageyama’s tone, “I’m still tired though. Will you carry me?”

“What! In the street?”, Kageyama shook his head and started walking away again.

“Plleaseeeeeeeeee Kageyaammaaaaaaaa!”

Unfortunately, still happy from Hinata agreeing to be his bok– boyfriend, something made Kageyama let Hinata climb on his back. For several blocks, Hinata rode piggy-back on Kageyama’s back, his bag thumping against Kageyama’s side.

Having arrived, Kageyama immediately dropped Hinata back onto the sidewalk.

“Never… again…”, Kageyama groaned in between heavy breathes.

“Open the door already, Tiredyama!”

They made their way upstairs and Hinata left his bag near the door.

“So, do you have extra pajamas?”

“What?”, Kageyama whipped around to face his new boyfriend.

“Well I’m not gonna sleep in my warmups…”, Hinata explained, gesturing to himself.

“Who said you’re sleeping here? What!”

“Kageyama, you’re so dumb sometimes. I live on the other side of the city and it’s late at night. I won’t bother you.”

“You always bother me, dumbas–, I–. I mean, okay. I guess. Let me go find something you can wear.”

While Kageyama went into the closet, Hinata sat on the bed, looking around Kageyama’s space. There wasn’t much to it, but he didn’t expect Kageyama to be the best interior decorator. He kind of just liked winning. And setting. And volleyball. And apparently, him! Hinata had admired Kageyama for years, growing close when Kageyama learned to trust him, but he had never expected that Kageyama could be capable of feelings.

Kageyama came back and threw some cotton pajamas at Hinata and pointed him toward the bathroom to change. When Hinata came back, Kageyama was already in bed, snoring.

“Typical Kageyama, waits for no one…”, Hinata laughed to himself. He lifted up the covers carefully and climbed into the bed, curling up next to Kageyama. The warmth and rustling of Hinata woke Kageyama up with a start, almost smacking Hinata. However, he quietly recovered, and once again closed his eyes.

After a few seconds, Hinata felt himself being pulled closer towards Kageyama until he was pressed into him, with Hinata’s head resting on Kageyama’s chest and Kageyama’s chin touching the top of Hinata’s hair. With his eyes continuing to be closed out of embarrassment, Kageyama did not see Hinata’s massive smile grow over his face. Both exhausted from the night's events, the two fell asleep quickly in each other's arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for reading!  
> If I ever get feel like it, I might add more ships to this. If you want one that I haven't done, feel free to comment!! xx


	8. Shirabu & Semi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaackkkkk!
> 
> I just couldn't let this prompt go, honestly, and needed to do it for so many more pairings.  
> As usual, *TIMESKIP SPOILERS AHEAD*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy my favorite angsty pair :)

Being a med student, Shirabu was always tired. Nights at the hospital and days in the simulation lab or studying lectures meant Shirabu got about three hours of sleep and one hour of free time per twenty-four hours. Of course, he found his job incredibly rewarding and was smart enough to handle it. Plus, he didn’t miss socializing with humans during the daytime, he kept telling himself, people didn’t really understand him anyways. Even in his years at Shiratorizawa Academy, he wouldn’t have many friends. It wasn’t that he was a bully, he was respectful to everyone! …Well, except Goshiki. But that bowl-cut brat deserved it, trying to outdo Ushijima. Shirabu wished he kept up with Ushijima personally, but the best he got was seeing his former captain on early morning reruns of national volleyball games during the hour that Shirabu spent at the bar after his shifts at the hospital.

Tonight, he had been let out early from his clinical research, so Shirabu told himself he would go “celebrate” and try out a different bar from his regular one near the hospital. He went home to his apartment to change out of his work clothes, loosening his tie already on the bus ride home. He was just sitting working at a lab bench all day, he didn’t understand why he had to be all dressed up.

Shirabu turned on the light of his apartment and found it expectedly empty and silent. With all of his shifts at the hospital and time spent studying, Shirabu had no time for pets, and frankly fish just seemed weird to him. Fish was something you ate, not kept around you for entertainment. And as for relationships, Shirabu had never found someone that actually made him want to spend time with them over doing his work. He had obviously looked up to Ushijima, and some days had found himself wondering what it would be like to hug him, but it was clear from the beginning that Ushijima was much more interested in volleyball than anyone else. Shirabu admired his drive and understood it well, but his was for medicine. Shirabu had only found out about Tendou and Ushijima’s relationship through Facebook updates reposted by Goshiki all over the internet. He rolled his eyes just thinking about that try hard.

Dressed in slacks and a plain sweatshirt, Shirabu ate a quick dinner and headed down to the new bar. It wasn’t really his style, Shirabu preferred a quiet, dimly lit place that just had the chatter of the patrons and TV noise in the background. This place, however, was packed and looked like a band was going to play soon.

Shirabu decided it ultimately didn’t matter, because he was only going to be here for half an hour at the maximum, just to unwind and get a drink. He chose a barstool towards the back, away from the stage and any loud speakers placed around the room. He could only hope that the band played music that he didn’t mind listening to.

He ordered some beer to start himself off easy, and perhaps cut himself off easy too. He gazed around, but he quickly reminded himself that this was not his usual bar and decided to start checking his email instead. He only got done with reading through three when he was suddenly startled.

“Shirabu?”, a voice called.

Shirabu lifted his head quickly at the harsh voice he had heard many times at practice.

In front of him was Semi Eita. Or at least he thought.

“S- Semi?”, Shirabu moved his hair out of his eye to get a better look. Standing there was a blond-haired man that had the facial features and voice of Semi Eita but was wearing a long black shirt and black jeans with rips at the knees. He had a knotted necklace on and was smirking.

“What are you doing here? You’re not a regular at this bar!”, this supposed Semi exclaimed.

“I–, I’m not. I live near here but–,” he stopped, “Semi?”

Semi only laughed in response and sat down on the barstool next to Shirabu, slapping Shirabu’s back harsher than Shirabu expected.

“So, what’s the rest of it? You live near here, but?”, Semi continued to laugh.

Shirabu felt himself getting warm and didn’t know why. This was just Semi, but somehow this was not Semi.

“Well, I’m a med student and I’m at the hospital a lot, usually until late, so I go to a bar near there,” he managed to choke out before taking a larger than necessary swig of beer.

“Of course. Yes, our super smart Shirabu baby. It’s all coming back to me,” Semi smiled while looking into the distance, clearly reminiscing in the past. Shirabu couldn’t tell if they were happy or angry memories.

Shirabu assumed the worst and waited until Semi’s moment of remembrance had passed, playing with the coaster on the table.

“Aren’t you going to ask about me?”, Semi raised his eyebrows and looked at Shirabu.

“I–,” the coaster fell with a slap on the table as Shirabu flinched, “go ahead.”

Semi rolled his dark, almost charcoal eyes, “well if you must know, I work for the government by day, but am here by night.”

Shirabu couldn’t read Semi’s intentions, “here… doing… what?”

“I perform with a few of my friends.”

“You. _You’re_ in a band,” Shirabu gawked at him.

“Is that so unbelievable?”, Semi started to scowl at him.

“Yes. You don’t do things like this.”

“Things like what, Shirabu? Live life? Not study all the time? Not everyone could be class four at Shiratorizawa. Some of us had to find other interests.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Shirabu snapped back, Semi’s comment about living life feeling like a slap, “I don’t think I’m better than you.”

“Yes, you do. You always did. The only difference is that I don’t care anymore. I used to beat myself up over the fact that you as my pesky junior surpassed me and got to be the starting setter. I had to learn the hard way that life doesn’t always offer you everything you want right away.”

There was silence at the table. Shirabu didn’t dare look up at Semi until Semi pushed his stool back and stood up.

“If you can get over yourself, I recommend staying for our set. I think we’re good, but then again, what do I know compared to a successful med student?”

Shirabu couldn’t respond and only stared at Semi as he walked away, his boots clacking against the wood. Semi was still as sharp-tongued as ever, but it was clear his outlook on life was not only about taking back his spot on the team. Shirabu had more admiration for Semi than ever, even if Semi still hated him. He knew he was going to stay for at least the first couple songs out of respect.

Semi had taken the stage with his bandmates and Shirabu reasoned that they were a rock band from the instruments. He didn’t know the first thing about rock, but Shirabu couldn’t imagine Semi doing something half-heartedly.

Shirabu couldn’t take his eyes off him as Semi introduced the band and took his place in the center of the stage. Could Semi sing? The first chords of the song started to play and Semi sang into the microphone with a weathered and rough voice. It was completely unlike music Shirabu ever chose to listen to. Being honest, Shirabu rarely listened to anything but classical music when he studied or worked on his research. Songs with lyrics made Shirabu start to sing or hum along, and it distracted him.

Semi continued to carry the melody as the rest of the band started to play more aggressively, and Shirabu began to feel something inside his chest. He wrote it off as pride for his older teammate, but he wasn’t sure. He watched as Semi effortlessly moved around the stage, only thinking about how graceful Semi looked. Song after song, Shirabu silently gazed at Semi as the crowd engaged with the band. The beer Shirabu was drinking turned to an order of a mixed drink, and soon Shirabu was filled with nothing but thoughts about how Semi’s smile was brighter than any of the spotlights pointed at the stage.

The band announced that they were done with their set, and Semi thanked the crowd for coming out. He jumped down from the stage and patted his bandmates on the back, thanking them for a great set. He walked towards the back of the bar to order himself a drink and flicked his eyes where Shirabu had been sitting. Semi’s heart skipped a beat after seeing that Shirabu was still here and starting right at him, mainly out of surprise. He couldn’t tell if it was because Shirabu liked the music, or because he had nothing better to do. Semi acknowledged the bartender and walked with his drink over to Shirabu.

“You stayed,” Semi confirmed when Shirabu was within earshot.

“Uh, yeah,” Shirabu stuttered, “I did.”  
“Don’t have any cancers to cure tonight?”, Semi offered, mostly joking.

“Studying is not the only thing I do,” Shirabu retorted harshly.

“Never said it was,” Semi dismissed and took a sip. Shirabu could be so difficult, as if he couldn’t see how much Semi respected him.

Another silence fell over the two until Semi broke it again.

“So, are you gonna say anything about the music?”

“I–, it was really good, Semi,” Shirabu mumbled at the table.

“Well don’t sound so disappointed.”

“I’m not! I didn’t know you could sing like that. The crowd really loves you.”

“Eh, most of them are drunk at this point.”

“That’s not the point, you really seem like you belong up there,” Shirabu finally looked up at Semi.

To his own surprise, Semi blushed at the comment, “being on stage is the one place where I’m free. Not free from the criticisms or the spotlight, but it’s only my voice up there,” Semi expressed in a softer tone than before.

“I get what you mean,” Shirabu responded with a sigh, “when I’m with a patient, it’s only about them and my ability to help them.”

“Yeah…”, Semi sighed before setting his hand down on the table, only to place it on top of Shirabu’s.

“Oh!”, Semi started to pull away and turned red at the situation, but Shirabu did not react the same. He grabbed Semi’s hand back and placed it back on the table, interlocking it with his. Semi looked up at him in a mix of confusion and surprise but did not object or pull away again.

They sat there together, holding hands, until Semi finished his drink and set his empty glass down.

“I should probably, uh, go…”, Semi started to get up. It was clear that this moment with Shirabu was fleeting, especially since Shirabu had had more to drink than Semi.

“Don’t?”, Shirabu got up quickly and looked up at Semi, silently pleading.

“What?”, Semi was genuinely confused.

“I live, like right by here. I’m not trying to force anything on you. But, if you don’t want to be done…”, Shirabu didn’t know how to continue without sounding absolutely pathetic.

“I mean–,” Semi didn’t know how to ask the question, “are you sober?”

“I never drink enough to not be able to get up in the morning,” Shirabu responded.

“Ah, right. Med student,” Semi nodded to himself, becoming incredibly aware that he was still holding Shirabu’s hand.

“…is that a no?”, Shirabu asked. 

“Uh, no. I think my bandmates already left, and, well, no one gives a shit if I call in and don’t go in tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Let me just grab my things from the back?”, Semi offered.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you in the front.”

Semi loosened his fingers from Shirabu’s grasp and walked towards the back. Shirabu finished the rest of his drink in one gulp for good luck and headed to the front of the bar. Was he about to take Semi Eita home? Did he want to take Semi Eita home? Frankly he just didn’t want to be alone.

Semi came back a few minutes later with a black jacket in his hands.

“Ready?”, Shirabu asked.

“Yeah,” Semi replied, reaching back for Shirabu’s hand as they walked out into the night. They got to Shirabu’s apartment building in all of two minutes, and Semi thought about how Shirabu really wasn’t kidding when he said he lives right by the bar.

Shirabu started to unclasp his fingers away from Semi’s hand when Semi pulled him back to face him in front of the doors to his apartment.

“Are, are you sure?”, Semi prompted, “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable wi–,” but he was cut off.

Shirabu tilted his head up and kissed Semi on the lips. Semi stiffened at first, but his brain quickly caught on to what was happening and leaned into the kiss. He let go of Shirabu’s hand and placed both his hands on Shirabu’s back. Shirabu’s lips were soft and warm, and tasted slightly like lemon. The scent made Semi slightly dizzy, or maybe that was because of the kiss.

Shirabu pulled back and looked up at Semi. Semi only stood there looking back to Shirabu, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

After a moment of quiet, Shirabu started to snicker, “so, aren’t you going to say something?”

Semi immediately turned red and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out right away, “Uh–, y– yeah. Let’s, go upstairs?”

“Works for me,” Shirabu already started unlocking the door. The pair started to take the stairs up to Shirabu’s apartment when Shirabu stopped only at the first step.

“What’s wrong?”, Semi turned around, worried that Shirabu started to regret his decision.

“Carry me?”

“HUH?”, Semi recoiled.

“I–, I’m a little dizzy,” Shirabu muttered.

Semi thought about how that makes two of them.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?”, Semi asked.

“…Carry me.”

“Yeah, I definitely don’t have the strength for that. I can offer you a supporting arm?”, Semi walked back down the stairs to grab Shirabu.

“Thanks, Semi,” Shirabu smiled genuinely, “I knew you were the best teammate.”

“Shut up,” Semi scolded, but with a large grin on his face.

With Shirabu under his arm, Semi took him up the stairs to Shirabu’s apartment, and the pair did a lot more that made Semi’s head swirl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, I can't write gay smut for shit so I didn't even try, I do apologize. 
> 
> If you have any specific pairings you want to see, let me know! I'm going on a very long break from school in the next couple days so I will have plenty of chapters to come ;)


	9. Sakusa & Atsumu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next three chapters are going to be three different perspectives of the same Inarizaki New Year's Eve party.  
> In this one, our favorite germophobe and our lovely Inarizaki setter get together before they were teammates on MSBY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, this one's a long one.... whoops.
> 
> Had too much time this Christmas, and, well, went off a little.  
> Merry Christmas to all that celebrate!

The members of the former Inarizaki High School volleyball team met up almost every year for their annual New Year’s Eve party. Ever since Osamu opened his onigiri shop, along with Kita’s help, that’s where they all gathered for an incredibly loud and rowdy time together. Atsumu always looked forward to catching up with his friends, especially since most of them still played volleyball. Everything about volleyball excited Atsumu, which is why he still found it ridiculous that his stupid brother Osamu and Kita-san both gave up playing volleyball and chose _food_ of all things instead. But he had to admit that he usually overate at these parties because of the sheer amount of good food available, and he wasn’t exactly upset about it.

Atsumu had been busy at practice with the MSBY Black Jackals until two days ago, when they separated for the holidays. He was currently staying with Osamu, much to both of their annoyance, and would leave again in a few days. Walking downstairs on the morning of New Year’s Eve, Atsumu found Osamu and Kita already hard at work in the kitchen, with Suna sitting at the kitchen countertop hunched over his phone, scrolling through something.  
“Hey! ‘Samu! Why didn’t ya wake me!”, Atsumu shouted as his foot hit the last step. He probably would have gotten dressed in something over than a plain white t-shirt and black joggers if he had known that company was over already. Suna, his brother’s on-again, off-again hookup partner, wouldn’t mind, but Atsumu prepared for Kita to turn around and nag him for not making himself presentable.

“Ya love sleeping. An’ whining. Why would I deny ya the pleasure of that?”, Osamu retorted in a deadpan without even turning his head away from the food preparation.

“Yeah, but we have company!”, Atsumu gestured at Kita and Suna.

“I’m over here literally all the time. More than you. You’re the company,” Suna muttered, not looking up from his phone.

“Alright, alright,” Kita put down his knife and smiled, “we don’t need to quarrel this early in the morning.” He wiped his hands against his apron, even though both his hands and the apron were completely clean.

“It’s good to see you, Atsumu,” Kita remarked. He walked over to Atsumu with open arms, and Atsumu reluctantly leaned in for the hug, relaxing more once Kita patted his back, even though Kita was several inches shorter.

“You look tired,” Kita continued, pulling away and getting a better look at Atsumu, “are you eating? Are you happy?”

“Kita-san!”, Atsumu groaned, “I’m fine.”

“He’s single,” Suna chimed in.

“Suna, shut yer trap!”, Atsumu scowled as Kita laughed, “I don’t need the remind of what yer doing with ma brother!”

“That’s none of yer business, ya nosy bastard!”, Osamu defended Suna.

“Okay, back to work,” Kita hushed the lot, “Atsumu, go get dressed, and then I’m making you and Suna set the table.”

“Uggghhhh, Kita-san!”, Atsumu groaned again, stomping his foot. Wasn’t the holiday supposed to be about relaxing? Then again… Kita’s version of relaxing probably _was_ cleaning and organizing, Atsumu thought back to all the times that Kita would come early or stay behind after practice to clean the volleyballs or make sure all the nets were tied properly.

He walked back upstairs to get dressed, deciding on some more durable pants and putting his MSBY sweatshirt over the shirt. He hung up his white button-down shirt and black dress pants for tonight’s party on hangers and reminded himself to ask Kita politely to iron them later. Atsumu didn’t have a significant other that he needed to dress up for, but he always liked to look sharp. Walking downstairs again, he found everyone in the exact same position they were before he left.

“Oh, Atsumu,” Kita started after Atsumu sat down next to Suna, scraping the stool against the floor, “Aran is currently out getting more ingredients, but you and Suna can start putting the plates and silverware out.”

Even though he was no longer the captain of their volleyball team, Kita still remained the father figure of them all. Atsumu was thankful for the guidance but didn’t want a third parent telling him to do chores.

“C’mon, Suna,” Atsumu lightly punched him in the arm.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me. I’m not your brother, I don’t want to fight you,” Suna rolled his eyes and got up from the stool, walking towards the dining room.

“It was just a joke!”, Atsumu called after him as he too got up and walked to the dining room with Osamu’s laughter behind him.

They each grabbed a set of plates and started placing them in front of the seats. Atsumu noticed that Suna’s posture hadn’t gotten any better since the last time he saw him, but then again, Suna had been hunched over since high school. Maybe he should talk to a chiropractor about that, though Atsumu didn’t know any.

“So, are Kita and Aran bangin’ yet?”, Atsumu fished.

“You’re so fucking gross,” Suna shook his head, uninterested.

“Ya know exactly what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” Atsumu countered.

Suna put down his last plate and walked over to Atsumu. Lowering his voice, Suna smirked and spoke, “okay, shut up. The latest that your brother has said is that he knows Aran was over at Kita’s really late a couple nights ago. But that’s it for now. Both Kita and Aran are so secretive and would never reveal anything, you know that.”

“Ugh, juicy!”, Atsumu grinned. The rest of the team had their suspicions that Kita and Aran were more than good friends even in high school, considering they were of similar calm composure and moral compass. But none of them ever drank enough to spill the details of their affairs. Osamu, Suna, Ginjima, and Atsumu all had a bet on when the news would finally drop.

“Still gross about you and ma brother though,” Atsumu made a face, not wanting to think about Suna sharing anything with his brother.

“You’re just grumpy and alone,” Suna sighed, taking his phone out of his pocket to check his notifications.

Atsumu opened his mouth to counter, but a different question came to his head, “hey, wait a second, there are more plates this year.”

“Yeah,” Suna responded, putting his phone away, “I invited people.”

“Huh?”, Atsumu furrowed his brows. Who told Suna he could just invite random people? If that was the case, Atsumu would have asked Hinata and Bokuto. Of course, they never would have come, having their own social groups from their own high school experiences. But it would have been the thought and option that counted.

“Yeah. One of my teammates on EJP, and I think he’s bringing his cousin.”

“Man, don’t ya just love volleyball?”, Atsumu immediately got distracted by the bringing up of Suna’s division I team.

“No,” Suna replied bluntly.

They were then interrupted by Kita’s voice from the kitchen, “Atsumu, Suna, Aran is here!”

“Aran-kun!”, Atsumu shouted, putting down the fork he was holding and jogging into the kitchen. Aran was the same as always, but with two arms full of grocery bags. He set them down on the counter and embraced Atsumu.

“How ya been!”, Atsumu grinned.

“Always helping out,” Aran shrugged, smiling.

“Yeah, unlike you, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu added.

“What have ya been doin’ this whole time, ‘Samu? Just standin’ there!”

“Screw you, I make the food ya eat all day, every day yer here!”

Atsumu couldn’t come up with a good argument, so he just scowled at Osamu’s back and sat down on a stool.

“Suna said he invited other people, did all of you do that too?”

“Yes, we’re replacing you,” Osamu muttered.

“No,” Kita replied over Osamu, “he just said that his teammate didn’t have anywhere to go, so I told him that he should invite him over. I think his cousin is tagging along too.”

“Well, it’s not like we’ll run out of food, right?”, Aran joked.

“Oi, hey, Kita-san! Will ya iron my clothes fer tonight? Uh, please?”, Atsumu asked.

Kita only laughed, “can’t do it yourself?”

“I trust ya more,” Atsumu grinned widely, raising his head at Kita to showcase his smile and gratefulness.

“Sure, sure, I’ll do it along with Osamu’s and Suna’s.”

“Thanks!!”

When Kita and Osamu got tired of having everyone stand in the kitchen, they sent everyone outside to play some volleyball. Not long after they started tossing the ball around, Ginjima walked through the gate and joined them, which Atsumu was happy about because they could play two on two. Atsumu and Suna immediately argued over who got to have Aran on their team, but ultimately Suna walked over to Ginjima. They played for a while until Kita appeared in the window and yelled that it was time for them to all come inside and get dressed.

Atsumu went up to his room to find his entire outfit had been laid out for him on his bed by Kita with a little note that read, **“handsome choice, it was a pleasure to iron. Kita”**.

Atsumu felt his chest tighten slightly, and he smiled, amazed at how selfless Kita was, even just as a friend. If they were together, Aran was a lucky guy. Not like Aran was any less caring, but still. Atsumu wanted someone to rely on, and to have someone rely on him like that, like Bokuto and Hinata did with his sets. Everything always related back to volleyball, it was about trusting someone else to score the point, make the pass, do things as a team.

He got dressed and headed over to Osamu’s room. The door was slightly ajar, so he didn’t bother knocking. Unfortunately, he walked straight into the room with Suna and Osamu, both shirtless, locked in a passionate kiss.

“Oi, ‘Samu, can’t ya keep it in yer pants fer like ten minutes?”, Atsumu yelled, moving his hand to cover his eyes even though the damage had already been done. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Suna, but he didn’t need to see his brother engaged in romantic gestures.

“The whole point is to fuckin’ knock!”, Osamu shouted, quickly separating from Suna and reaching for his shirt, which was a grey very close in color to his hair. His pants were an even darker grey, with black shiny dress shoes matching Atsumu’s.

“The door wasn’t closed or locked, ya asked fer it!”

“Okay, then get out,” Suna responded. Suna was in velvet burgundy dress pants and matching blazer, with a black button-up shirt. Atsumu had to admit that he looked good, but he wasn’t gonna say that to Suna’s face, just to have Osamu try and claim that he was flirting with his man.

“Whatever, I don’t wanna be with ya anyways!”, Atsumu walked out, shutting the door behind him just a little too loudly.

“Atsumu?”, Kita poked his head out of another bedroom, “is everything okay?”

Kita was wearing a proper black formal suit that made his hair stand out, even though it was combed and proper as well. Atsumu expected nothing less from his former captain.

“Yuck, I just saw Suna and Osamu in ways I didn’t wanna,” Atsumu grimaced and shook his head.

All of the sudden, the door behind Kita opened wider and Aran appeared behind him, in a similar black suit, but missing the jacket.

“Atsumu, let your brother and friend be happy,” Aran replied calmly.

Atsumu stood in the hallway gaping at the two of them. Picking up on Atsumu’s reaction, Kita blushed slightly, but didn’t say anything except to head downstairs and check on the whereabouts of Ginjima. The two of them then disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door, leaving Atsumu standing alone in the hallway, a little dumbfounded. He made his way downstairs to find Ginjima standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

“They’re all gonna be down eventually, I hope”, Atsumu shrugged as he sat down on a stool. Ginjima didn’t get a chance to reply when the doorbell rang. Atsumu assumed it had to be Suna’s teammate.

“SUNA! YOUR GUESTS ARE AT THE DOOR!”, Atsumu called.

“JUST GET IT!”, someone shouted back.

“WHAT!”, Atsumu called again. He waited for a second response but heard nothing.

“Oy fuck it. I’ll just get it, I guess,” Atsumu rolled his eyes and stood up. The doorbell rang again and Atsumu quickened his pace down the hall, “ya, ya, I’m comin’.”

He opened the door and found two men, one shorter and the other one slightly taller than him. The shorter one had these wild eyebrows and was dressed quite plainly, but with a warm smile on his face. The taller one was in a black turtleneck sweater and similarly dark coat with a surgical facemask on. His hair was curly and black, matching the rest of his attire, and Atsumu was intrigued how it was possible it actually all worked together. It was like he was brooding, but in a really attractive way.

“Hiya! I’m Motoya Komori, please call me Komori. I’m Suna’s teammate on EJP!”, the shorter one announced cheerfully, before bowing. Atsumu felt a good vibe coming from him, but found it incredibly strange that this guy was friends with Suna.

“Ya, of course. I’m Miya Atsumu, come on in,” adding the _I guess_ only in his head. He moved out of the way and the two men stepped into the genkan.

“Thank you. Oh, how rude of me, this is–,” Komori began but was interrupted by the taller man.

“Kiyoomi Sakusa. …make your acquaintance,” Sakusa muttered without meeting Atsumu’s eyes. Atsumu wondered if Sakusa had meant to have the word “pleasure” be inaudible, because by the looks of it, Sakusa would rather be anywhere else. Atsumu only nodded in reply and took Komori’s coat.

“Well, uh… everyone’s upstairs getting ready. Buncha’ slowpokes,” Atsumu explained awkwardly, “but come in the kitchen,” gesturing the guests further inside. With his back to the guests, he shook his head, as if trying to shake off the awkward encounter.

While Sakusa and Komori made acquaintance with Ginjima, Kita and Aran finally descended down the stairs into the kitchen, followed shortly by Suna and Osamu. Komori greeted everyone happily, explaining he was Suna’s teammate. Sakusa bowed to everyone but stood in the corner of the kitchen, leaving as much space as possible between him and the others.

Upon seeing Komori, Suna shouted “bro!” and gave Komori a hug. Everyone chatted happily amongst themselves. Atsumu watched Sakusa’s face during the exchange and could see his eyebrows scrunch in what Atsumu could only describe as disgust. Why did this guy even come if he clearly didn’t like the company? However, Atsumu’s curiosity got the best of him and spoke up, “so, uh, Kiyoomi, what do you do?”

Sakusa stiffened as if upset that someone was including him in the conversation, but replied calmly, “I am a university student. However, I am looking to get into division I volleyball next year.”

Atsumu’s eyes lit up at the mention of volleyball, but he was awfully confused how this guy could possibly like volleyball, when he didn’t like touching anyone or anything that wasn’t his. In fact, he was probably worse than Kita, which Atsumu didn’t think was possible.

“Oh no shit!”, Atsumu exclaimed, which caused Sakusa to grimace slightly. Wow, he really was like Kita, who also hated when Atsumu swore.

Atsumu wanted to question him further, but Kita interrupted, “alright everyone, let’s go take our seats and start the feast, shall we?”

The seven men filed into the dining room table and took their seats. Osamu and Atsumu took the two ends of the table, which Atsumu was sure was Kita’s idea, trying to keep the twins as far away from each other as possible. It was less likely that they would hit each other or throw food across the entire table. On either side of Osamu were Suna and Ginjima. On Atsumu’s left was Kita, with Aran between Kita and Ginjima. Putting the teammates next to each other, Komori was next to Suna, which left Sakusa sitting between Atsumu and Komori.

“Well,” Kita remarked, standing behind his chair, “thank you all for gathering with us today, especially to our new guests,” gesturing at Komori and Sakusa. Atsumu observed silently as Komori smiled gratefully, but Sakusa remained stoic. What was his deal? As Atsumu contemplated Sakusa’s strange behavior, Sakusa looked right at him and Atsumu’s breath caught as Sakusa’s dark eyes were unreadable and intense.

After Kita’s speech and Osamu’s explanation of all the food before them, everyone dug in and the table was almost silent. Komori explained that he and Sakusa were cousins who also went to the same high school and played on the same volleyball team before Komori got on EJP and Sakusa went to university. Atsumu ate his food happily and listened but couldn’t help but observe everyone at the table skeptically. Suna and Osamu were weirdly whispering to each other, and it looked like Aran and Kita had a secret that no one else at the table knew. He decided to ignore them all and focus on getting more out of the mysterious Sakusa.

“So, Kiyoomi,” Atsumu faced him, “what’s after university again? Volleyball?”

“Yes. I would like to play division I, considering how well my experience went in high school and now,” Sakusa replied calmly. Atsumu couldn’t tell whether Sakusa was trying to be an asshole, or he was just really that good, almost like Ushijima.

“Oh, will you be joining Suna and Komori?”, Atsumu picked his drink for a sip.

“No. I have been in contact with the MSBY Black Jackals organization,” Sakusa stated, causing Atsumu to spit out his drink and spew it all over himself, his plate, and a few drops on Kita’s and Sakusa’s areas. The other conversations died down to stare at Atsumu.

“I–, I’m–,” Atsumu struggled to get out while choking, “I’m sorry, what?” but he did not get a response. Sakusa looked downright nauseous as he stared at his plate, now covered with drops of Atsumu’s drink.

“I am so sorry for him,” Kita immediately sprang into action, stacking Atsumu’s and Sakusa’s plates on top of his own to take to the kitchen, “Atsumu, why don’t you go wipe yourself down? You’ve got half your drink on your pants.”

“Nice going, ‘Tsumu! Ya nasty pig!”, Osamu shouted from across the table.

“Now is not the time, Osamu,” Kita shot him a look before walking into the kitchen. Atsumu glared at his brother but stood up to leave. Sakusa beat him to it and stood up as well.

“Excuse me,” Sakusa said quietly, and walked to Kita and asked where the bathroom was, swiftly walking out after receiving the answer. Atsumu only stared after him, confused. He only got a few drops on Sakusa, it was Atsumu’s own pants that most of it went on.

Atsumu stomped upstairs and contemplated what to do. He didn’t have any other nice clothes. The stains weren’t noticeable on his black pants, so he wiped them up as best as he could with paper towels and used Osamu’s hairdryer to dry the rest of the wetness. But his white shirt was ruined with several red stains. He didn’t have any other nice clothes, unless he went into Osamu’s closet and tried to steal something. Though, he didn’t think that Aran and Kita-san would appreciate him causing another fight with Osamu. He settled on the only thing that looked semi decent was his gold and black MSBY warm-up jacket with a black t-shirt underneath. The jacket matched his hair, which he combed through in the mirror before heading back downstairs.

He wandered back downstairs to find Kita back at the table, but no Sakusa.

He sat down and turned to Komori, “I’m really sorry for ma actions, Komori.”

“Oh,” Komori returned a smile that was laced with pity, “it’s really okay. Sakusa gets really stressed out about crowds and germs and things. I apologize for him being a downer on your lovely party.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Kita answered for everyone, “I know a little something about the slobs that these guys are,” looking pointedly at Osamu and Atsumu. Aran put a hand reassuringly on Kita’s shoulder and laughed.

Everyone returned back to eating, only to all be silent when Sakusa walked back into the dining room.

“Pardon me,” Sakusa muttered realistically only at Kita.

“It is really no problem,” Kita replied.

“I’m really sorry, I–,” Atsumu tried to explain, but Sakusa only scrutinized the logo on Atsumu’s jacket. 

“There is no need. I now understand the reason for the reaction,” Sakusa stated simply.

“I’m sorry again,” Atsumu felt himself blush, unsure of the reason.

Sakusa did not speak again to Atsumu until after dinner when everyone moved into the living room. The drinks started flowing and the music began to blare out of the speakers, the accompanying music video flashing on the TV. Suna and Osamu were all over each other, and Atsumu wanted to stay far away from that, so he chatted with Aran about volleyball until Kita interrupted to ask Aran to get something from the kitchen with him.

Atsumu sat on the couch and chugged his glass. Might as well not be too keenly aware of his surroundings if he’s going to be surrounded by all of these couples. At least Ginjima didn’t seem to be with someone. 

Atsumu’s self-deprecating thoughts were disrupted by Sakusa.

“So, how do you like the Black Jackals?”, Sakusa sat down next to Atsumu on the couch, but still far away enough that no part of him was touching anyone else.

“Oh, it’s just great! I’m the setter, and two of my best buddies, Bokuto and Hinata, are on it! They’re both wing spikers and we’re really good and our captain is super hardworking!”, Atsumu, with his liquid amplifier, was way too excited to talk to someone new about his volleyball team. Except for Aran, no one ever wanted to hear his stories because usually Osamu and Kita were at the games.

Sakusa seemed to seriously consider everything Atsumu was saying before replying, “I am also a wing spiker. I believe I have even heard of Bokuto. He is the one that has hair that is… multicolored?”

“Yes! He calls me Tsum-Tsum, and he’s married to Akaashi Keiji, who’s just wonderful, except fer when he talks to my brother over me,” Atsumu flashed a glare at Osamu.

“Do you win?”, Sakusa asked.

“Well, Hinata-kun has a really big rivalry with his boyfriend, Kageyama, who plays on the Alders. Ushijima-san is there, too!”, Atsumu watched as Sakusa’s eyes lit up at the mention of both Kageyama and Ushijima.

“Interesting. Well, I look forward to perhaps trying out. It seems… nice.”

“I look forward to setting fer ya! I always told ‘Samu, if ye can’t hit my sets, yer just trash,” Atsumu grinned.

“I don’t think I’ll have a problem with that,” Sakusa gave him a half smile, which for some reason made Atsumu’s heart race. Someone was looking forward to his setting? This was better than watching Shouyou-kun bounce around all over the court and yelling for his set. Without his mask on, Sakusa even seemed reasonably attractive. The moles on his forehead were as black as his hair, it was as if he just kind of picked a color and rolled with it. Atsumu excused himself and went to go get another glass of champagne when Sakusa declined, saying he does not drink very much and already had a glass of wine to dinner.

He came to find Kita giving a peck on the cheek to Aran in the kitchen.

“Argh! Not again!”, Atsumu groaned, which startled both Kita and Aran and caused Kita to turn quite a shade of red.

“Atsumu, I’m so sorry. We were–,” Kita started to explain.

“Aw, save it!”, Atsumu interrupted, “we all were just waiting for this.”

“Oh…”, Aran and Kita chuckled awkwardly.

“I’m just here to get more drinks, with all ya couples around, it’s better to dull the senses.”

Before either could say anything, Atsumu returned to the living room to find Komori had taken his spot. Disappointed, Atsumu settled for sitting next to Ginjima and talking to him while watching Sakusa from the corner of his eye. He downed two more drinks by the time Komori stood up to go to the bathroom, which is when Atsumu politely excused himself from Ginjima and sat back down with Sakusa.

“So, Sakusa. Got any hobbies?”

Sakusa looked almost surprised that Atsumu had asked him anything, “um, I have a cat that I’m particularly fond of.”

“Oooh, what’s his name?”

“It is Toshi. He is white and black,” Sakusa seemed to be more relaxed than he was at the dining table. Perhaps the wine had worked on him during dinner.

“He sounds great!”

They were interrupted by Osamu, “’Tsumu, yer getting a lil loud, don’t ya think?”

Atsumu furrowed his brows, “whatre ye talkin’ ‘bout, ‘Samu?”

“Maybe ye’ve had enough to drink!”, Osamu contested, with Suna behind him pulling out his cellphone. Kita and Aran stood on the far side of the living room with Komori, looking concerned.

“Ya don’t know what yer sayin’, ya big dummy, ‘Samu!”, Atsumu was getting angry. How could Osamu try and intervene on his New Year’s drinking plans. It wasn’t up to him, they weren’t kids.

Before anything got physical, the two were interrupted by Sakusa, “if both of you don’t mind, maybe I will take Atsumu upstairs to calm down.”

“Thanks, but I’m not tired,” Atsumu smirked.

“I don’t mean that,” Sakusa let out something between a chuckle and a scoff, “I just mean to, get away from the chaos for a second. I could use it myself.”

All the men were in shock. But no one was more taken aback than Atsumu.

“Uh… sure. Away from ‘Samu is always better.”

Sakusa pursed his lips and nodded, “let’s go then,” and waited for Atsumu to lead the way, following behind him in his all-black attire. Atsumu was pretty sure that everyone was staring at their backs as they exited the room, but his head was still kind of spinning from the drinks.

They were halfway up the stairs when Atsumu missed one. He stumbled forward but something caught him, he looked over his shoulder to find Sakusa touching him. Atsumu gaped slightly.

“I–, I thought you don’t touch other people,” Atsumu whispered.

“I’ll certainly need to wash my hands in the bathroom, yes,” Sakusa admitted.

They finished walking up the stairs and Atsumu pointed out the bathroom.

“Actually, maybe you should wash your hands too. And brush your teeth,” Sakusa told him.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing personal. Just basic hygiene,” Sakusa said before walking into the bathroom. Atsumu huffed at Sakusa’s back, but then put his hand in front of his mouth and blew. Honestly, Sakusa was right, Atsumu’s breath just smelled like bad alcohol. He stomped to the guest bathroom that he was using during his stay and brushed his teeth and washed his hands. What a strange guy, that Sakusa.

He walked out of the bathroom to find Sakusa staring at baby photos of the Miya twins on the wall.

“These are cute,” Sakusa expressed, “although, you both look like you caused too many messes.”

“We did,” Atsumu admitted.

“You look kind of pale. Do you want to sit down?”, Sakusa stared at Atsumu intently, as if debating whether or not Atsumu was going to throw up and how far he needed to stand when that happened.

“We can go to my ‘makeshift’ bedroom,” Atsumu shrugged, before muttering, “…stupid ‘Samu. Not even giving me my own room in his house.”

“Are you here often?”, Sakusa asked.

Atsumu wasn’t sure why Sakusa was actually trying to make conversation, but he supposed that it was since they were probably going to be teammates.

“I–, no, not really. It’s more than ‘Samu and Suna and Kita come to see my games in the district, especially since ‘Samu has an onigiri stand during the games for fans.”

“That’s really nice. I guess not everyone’s life is volleyball,” Sakusa admitted.

“Well, ain’t that the worst! Everyone’s life _should_ be volleyball! It’s such a great game,” Atsumu sighed and plopped on the bed.

“You’re very loud, Atsumu-san. And entitled. And irritating,” Sakusa laughed a genuine laugh, and sat down on the bed next to Atsumu, but not before squinting carefully at the comforter.

Atsumu was very confused, “those were all insults.”

“Yes. But you’re also very passionate. Did you brush your teeth and wash your hands?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. Can I kiss you, then?”, Sakusa turned towards Atsumu and shifted his weight on the bed.

Atsumu didn’t know what to say. He just stared at Sakusa, looking for any sign of a joke. Sakusa didn’t really seem like the kind for jokes, though.

“HUh?”

“Oh, pardon me. Is that not something you’d like? I apolog–,”

“NO NO! Please kiss me!”, Atsumu shouted, a little too loudly for Sakusa sitting right next to him.

“Oh. Okay,” Sakusa smiled slightly.

“So, uh…”

“Atsumu? Shut up,” Sakusa said before leaning in. Sakusa was gentle and placed his hand slowly on Atsumu’s cheek, and then pressed his lips against Atsumu’s. It was soft and subtle, and Atsumu’s head started to spin for reasons that weren’t alcohol. Sakusa smelled like soap, and his hand was comforting. They parted after a minute, and Atsumu grinned like an idiot. Behind Sakusa’s shoulder, the clock said that it was already after midnight.

“Hey! It’s the New Year!”

“Huh?”, Sakusa looked in the direction of the clock, and then laughed again. Atsumu could really get used to his laugh, it was the kind that was contagious and made Atsumu’s insides feel all warm.

“Well in that case…”, Sakusa leaned in and kissed Atsumu one more time. This time was quicker, and probably even sloppy for Sakusa’s standards, but it lit Atsumu on fire even more than the alcohol. He placed his hand wearily on Sakusa’s back, but with no objections, moved his other hand and pulled Sakusa closer. They continued to kiss for a few minutes until Atsumu pulled back.

“Uh… as nice as that was? I’m kinda nauseous,” Atsumu put one hand behind his head and laughed. Sakusa immediately jumped at least a foot from Atsumu.

“Yes, that might be my, uh, cue. Sorry, nothing personal, but,” Sakusa began to stand up.

It was Atsumu’s turn to let out a hardy chuckle, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. …Kind of.”

“Uh, just in case, how about I tuck you into bed and put a bucket next to you? That’s the best I can do.”

Atsumu took off his jacket and shoes. Sakusa then turned away and faced the window.

“Oh, I’m not gonna take my pants off in front of ya,” Atsumu laughed, “I’ll do that under the covers.”

Sakusa didn’t turn around, “no, I’m just trying to calm myself down from thinking about vomit. Not everything is about you.”

Atsumu got under the covers anyways, and took off his pants there, and then tossed them to the floor on the side of the bed. He then took off his t-shirt and tossed that on the floor too.

“I’m readdyy,” Atsumu sang like a child, leaning against the back of his pillow.

Sakusa didn’t respond but picked up both the pants and the shirt off the floor and folded them neatly, placing them on the dresser. Atsumu couldn’t help but notice that Sakusa was a little pink after looking at Atsumu’s bare chest and shoulders.

“…Are you still going to throw up?”

“No. …Maybe. Jury’s still out. I am really tired though,” Atsumu admitted.

“Goodnight, Miya,” Sakusa said stoically, but with a smile on his face. He started to head out when Atsumu stopped him.

“Hey hey, I gotta question!”

Sakusa stopped in the doorway and faced Atsumu, “yes?”

“Can I call you Omi?”

“No. Goodnight,” Sakusa turned off the light in Atsumu’s room, so the only light came from the hallway, illuminating Sakusa’s shadow, making him look even bigger.

“Goodnight Omi-Omi!”, Atsumu called after him, only to hear a groan from Sakusa before he closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the photo inspiration for the outfits of the Inarizaki men  
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/62/13/95/621395a6d8212351c5ce1f40fc4622c6.jpg
> 
> Next up, Kita and Aran ;)


End file.
